Indulgence
by noemilafille
Summary: First impressions aren't always that great and plans sometimes act on their own accord. But this attraction is real regardless of apprehensions. I want to move forward and tell you how I really feel. (A super silly no-powers AU-crossover written for fans of Blossom/Dexter and my own amusement. Also, briefly features other Cartoon Network characters.)
1. Chapter 1

"Welcome to Morbucks Coffee, what can I get you today?"

"Medium coffee."

"Which roast would you like, sir?"

Dexter finished yawning before answering, "The strongest you've got."

The bright-eyed, smiling cashier rang his order up, shouted the order to the employees behind her, and then handed him a copy of his receipt, telling him his number was located at the bottom of the paper. In the same breath she greeted the customer behind him. There was no doubt the employees of the establishment were "testing" their product.

He stood to the side of the counter and watched as the cashier took the next orders by repeating the same series of movements: take the order, shout the order, and hand the receipt to the customer. But the woman currently at the front of the line was a slightly different case. She was a too-busy-to-put-the-phone-down kind of customer. Dexter had seen her here a few times before, though never without her phone attached to her ear. He wondered what kind of job she had that kept her busy so early in the morning. She wore a three-quarter sleeve tunic, denim mini-skirt, and tall boots. It didn't exactly match high-executive office attire.

"That hardly qualifies as an interesting case," she told the listener on the phone.

He thought it was a bit too soon for the college students to roll out of bed and come in for their orders; it was only a quarter to seven. He had a difficult time trying to place an age on her. Her clothes and mid-waist length hair pushed behind a headband gave her a youthful appearance, but the shine and volume of her strawberry blonde hair revealed she was old enough to have an income that could be applied to frivolous expenses, such as visits to a hair salon.

"But he's just suing the guy. It doesn't get any more straightforward than that."

Dexter turned his head to look out the glass wall of the shop as she approached the waiting area. He mentally cursed himself, deeming this action no better than a school boy with a crush. He knew better than to act this way, he told himself. After all, in two years, he'd be thirty. If he thought a woman was attractive, he should be able to let her know without getting nervous or embarrassed about it. Right?

"Orders 22 and 24!" an employee said as he placed the to-go cups on the counter in front of them. The employee immediately went back to work on the other orders.

Examining the cups in detail, Dexter realized the employee hadn't marked either of them with a number. He made to tell the woman on the phone, but before he opened his mouth she'd already grabbed the cup directly in front of her, and went on her way. Dexter looked again for any sign on the cup as to which drink he was holding, and found nothing. Oh well, he said to himself, if it's the wrong order I guess I really will get to talk to her today. He took a small sip, nearly gagging on the flavor. Had she ordered a cup of coffee, or a cup of warm water with sugar?

"Excuse me, miss!"

The woman stopped no more than a foot in front of the exit. "Hey, I've got to go. I'll see you at the office."

As she pocketed her phone, Dexter pointed to the cup in his hand. "I think there was a mix-up at the counter. We might have each other's coffees."

She frowned, holding the cup closer to her face, as if noticing it for the first time. Then, without warning, she took a sip. "Ugh," she said as she handed him the cup, "don't tell me you drink your coffee like that."

"I do after an all-nighter," he said as they exchanged cups.

She rolled her eyes. "Or if you're hung over."

Dexter furrowed his brow. "Which is not the case."

She muttered an "mm-hm," before drinking her sugar-flavored coffee. She then placed her hand next to her mouth, mockingly whispering, "Thanks anyways."

She waved goodbye before turning entirely to leave. Her "office" was most likely walking distance because she made no sign of pulling car keys from her pocket.

Wishing the fantasy had just stayed that, Dexter sighed, and removed his own keys from his pocket. After the previous week, he had really hoped that talking to her was a sign of his luck turning around. Then he remembered, as a man of science, he had decided to stop believing in luck a long time ago.

* * *

Blossom sprinted up the front stairs and then into her office building. She blurted an apology to her assistant, whom stood up behind her desk. Blossom set her cup of caramel cappuccino down and started untying the lace of one of her boots.

"This is why I can't let you talk me into going out the night before my client and I meet with the defendant," she said. "Are my clothes in my office?"

"Clean, pressed, and hung," her assistant said as she rolled up her sleeves to her green cardigan. "It's hanging on the back of your door."

"Thanks, Kuki."

Blossom slipped off her boots, picked them up, and then dashed into her office to change. Kuki pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and then brushed some of her long, jet black hair behind her ear before she began gathering and organizing piles of paper work on her desk. A few minutes later, Blossom emerged fully dressed in a classic black pencil-skirt, a light pink oxford shirt, and donned a pearl necklace. In one hand she had her blazer, and in the other she held her make-up bag and toothbrush. She headed for the restroom. Kuki, focused on her task, reached under her desk and pulled out a slim briefcase. She laid it open on the top of her desk, placed paper clips on the corners of similar documents, and then finished by putting all of the organized paper work inside the briefcase.

Just as the locks to the case clicked, Blossom rejoined her assistant in the main area. She looked around the room: behind the filing cabinets, next to the few indoor plants on the floor, and then under the seating across from Kuki's desk.

"Have you seen my heels, the black ones?"

Kuki shrugged. "I think I saw you putting them in your trunk last night. Sometimes I wonder if you ever go home."

Blossom frowned. "Recently, I guess I haven't been."

Her assistant handed her the brief case. "It's hard now, but things'll get better." She smiled broadly. "I'm just glad you're finally taking our help. You can't expect to do everything on your own."

Blossom took the case out of Kuki's hand. "For now. I won't bother you much longer with this kind of work."

"I like it. It's a nice change of pace from filing papers and answering the phone all day."

"I don't want you to feel like an intern. We're both professionals now. Have you seen—?"

"Your flats are next to the door. I figured you'd wear them while driving anyways."

As she slipped on her shoes, Kuki brought the cup of coffee to her boss. When Blossom took the cup from her, the assistant then handed her car keys she'd just pulled out of her own pocket.

"Oh, don't forget," Kuki said as Blossom opened the front door, "we're meeting the girls for lunch today. Abby said she could make it after all, so it'll be noon at the usual place."

"Thanks, Kuki."

Maybe Kuki had gotten the address wrong, Blossom told herself. She'd perused the case files while sitting at red lights on her way to the defendant's place of work, the previously decided location of the meeting that would bring her client's case to light. Until she pulled up to the office building, she'd missed that her client was in fact suing _the_ Dexter of DexLabs Technologies. At the age of thirteen, Dexter founded his corporation and propelled to the top of sales by restructuring Townsville's power grid and creating new technological conveniences for the everyday person. Most of the city's Downtown area ran on DexTech and almost every household in the nation benefited in some form from the company's products. Blossom nearly squealed in excitement after exchanging her flats for her heels. If she could prove that the super genius with the extraordinary history had a dark side, she would gain national recognition.

She waited outside the main entrance of the building for her client still in awe of the case she was about to initiate. Kuki told her it was going to be an interesting one, but she never spelled out why exactly. She'd probably expected her boss to put more effort into researching each of the parties at this point. Until now, Blossom just couldn't put heart into working on another case over petty suing, assuming her client would want to take the case to a small claims court. Corporate pettiness was a different story. She thought it odd her client, a well-known corporate executive himself, was suing an individual, rather than the business as a whole. It was why she didn't find the case to be that interesting, initially. Upon further reading of her notes, she saw that the technology predated the founding of DexLabs and her client's company. This meant her client was probably more focused on tarnishing Dexter's reputation than trying to claim financial compensation.

Five minutes passed before she decided to look at her watch again. She'd purposely arrived early to review some last minute notes, but found her situation too stimulating to concentrate on reading more than she had in the car. She took in the scene around her, etching each detail in her mind as the beginning of a reality she'd worked hard to achieve. The DexLabs Main Office was at least five stories high, with a wider tower attached behind it, at least fifteen stories in height. The hexagonal shape of the tower gave the building a modern feel. The logo of the company glowed at the front of the Main Office, above the entrance: two atoms warped together to resemble a lemniscate. Across the walkway lay a small courtyard, typical in office building fashion with seating, manicured hedges, and a fountain in the center.

Blossom heard the front doors to DexLabs slide open. She quickly turned to see who had joined her. Her expression fell. The man who'd exited the building was the same man she met earlier at Morbucks. Seeing his unkempt, bright red hair again bothered her. But, she noted, he did not look like scrawny, shy guy that approached her this morning. This time he was a tall, solemn-faced man in a lab coat. If he'd stay some distance away from her, she thought, he'd be kind of handsome.

He adjusted his thinly framed rectangle glasses before speaking. "Well, well. We meet again." He grinned. "I guess it was only a matter of time."

"Why's that?" she said while trying to place his Slavic accent. It wasn't as noticeable earlier when his words lacked confidence.

"Because of that little drink mix up, you could say we inadvertently kissed. I guess you're here to experience the real thing." He laughed.

"You drank some of my cappuccino before giving it back to me?"

He folded his arms. "You drank my coffee before giving it back to me."

"Only because I thought you were lying. You looked like a typical office pervert. I guess I was right."

He dropped his arms to his sides. "If you're a man-hater, fine, but could you at least disguise your hatred a little better so we can have a normal conversation?"

"I'm only calling it like I see it. It's not my fault if you interpret my reaction to your poor attempt of hitting on me as 'man-hating.'"

The man looked away from her, slightly red-faced, folding his arms across his chest again. "Anyway, what business do you have out here?"

She glared, placing a hand on her hip. "It's really none of your concern. I was just about to ask you why you came out of that building."

"I'm waiting on my lawyer. Apparently I'm getting sued."

Blossom softened her stance, lowering her hand. "You are?"

"It's nothing new, but it is annoying." He raised an eyebrow, slightly smirking. "What, no quips about a sexual harassment charge?"

Blossom stepped forward and grabbed the badge clipped onto the man's coat. When she pulled it closer to read, the man leaned forward so as not to lose it. She felt her stomach give way, as if the bottom fell through, and the ground beneath her disappeared. "You're—"

They made eye contact for a brief second before she let go of his name badge. She blushed, overwhelmed by her sudden realization.

"Oh, I see where this is going," Dexter said flatly. "You're Mandark's lawyer. I bet you're fresh out of law school, too."

"What makes you say that?" She turned her back to him.

"Well, it's just that, some of these charges are old news. Either you're new, or Mandark's hiding things from you, which if I'm not mistaken is kind of a bad idea for your case."

Blossom responded with the cold shoulder routine.

"Hey, come on, there's no need to act that way. I could give you a hint, if you'd like—"

"Don't screw with me," she said quietly.

Dexter put his hands in his lab coat pockets. "Right. I guess it's time to act like adults."

* * *

When his lawyer walked up, Dexter nearly cried out in joy. The awkward atmosphere weighed too much for him to handle on his own. He held out his hand to greet her. "Mandy, long time no see!"

Mandy ignored him, and instead addressed her peer. "My name is Amanda, but I go by Mandy. I see you've met my client. If he's already offended you, you'll have to forgive him. He was born with the social ineptitude of poorly reading the atmosphere."

Dexter fought the urge to combat her remark, choosing to remain stone-faced. He trusted her to sense something went wrong when she wasn't here.

"I'm Blossom. I'm sorry—I don't mean to sound pretentious," she began, "but isn't it a bit inappropriate to call my client an idiot and your client socially inept, regardless of his actual physical or mental status?"

Mandy smirked, which often meant trouble. "I like you. So I'll be straightforward with you. The three of us go way back. Our clients, in fact, went to the same grade school. As kids, they would sabotage each other's work. As adults, they're doing the same thing through the legal system. It's like a game to them. Don't take it personally. They are after one another's money and the legal cases they've brought against the other are very serious, but no matter the outcome, they just end up squabbling again at some point. It pays my bills, so I don't mind the redundancy."

Dexter placed a hand on Mandy's shoulder. "Okay, that's enough history with the enemy, don't you think?"

She pinched the back of his hand. "And _you_. It's been six months and you only call me because of your antics? You missed my wedding."

"I was busy," he said as he rubbed his hand, pouting slightly. "I told you that."

"You'll explain later." She nodded towards the bottom of the stairs. "Your client's here, Blossom."

Dexter and Blossom followed Mandy's stare. The owner of DexLabs rolled his eyes at, what he felt, was the causation of his recent bout of bad luck. If Mandark hadn't initiated this lawsuit, Dexter wouldn't have had the opportunity to stick his foot in his mouth with Blossom earlier. He was miffed by her attitude towards him this morning, and wanted to extract a little verbal revenge, under the assumption they would never speak to one another again. But now they would see each other more often than he'd like.

"Greetings, everyone, I apologize for being late. I had some personal matters to attend to." He smoothed out the bottom of his red tie.

Dexter was a little surprised his rival had worn a suit to this meeting, rather than lab attire, but made an attempt to hide this.

"Dexter, I'm shocked. You actually look like you showered _and_ shaved today. What's the special occasion?"

Mandy held her arm in front of Dexter before he could respond. "Enough. You're late, so as punishment, you only get to speak when your lawyer gives you permission. And same goes for you Dexter, as punishment for being a bad friend. Now let's get inside and start this. I still have to drive all the way back to Endsville after this."

* * *

Blossom flopped down into the chair of one of the sandwich shop's tables. Her meeting ended earlier than expected. Mandy seemed genuinely impressed by the research the prosecutor and her assistant had done, declaring that there was a reason to pursue one of the charges, whether it be inside or outside a courtroom. She requested more time to prepare the terms for the first round of negotiations with Dexter. The prosecution agreed, not being entirely prepared either, though Blossom and Mandark non-verbally agreed to omit this from the conversation. Blossom couldn't help but feel a little satisfied by how pale Dexter's face was by the end of the meeting. But there was no way to call this a victory for her just yet. Her relationship with her client was unsettling, by her standards. She felt as if she had only peered into the vat of information she would later bathe in by the end of this case.

"Girl, you look exhausted."

Blossom sat up straight, quickly following the voice to its source. She smiled, greeting her friends Abby and Kuki. "Abby, you don't know the half of it."

They joined her at the table.

"How did it go?" Kuki asked while leaning forward.

"It was… interesting. You were right, though. There's more to this case than it initially seemed. I have a feeling this goes further than a faulty patent." She sighed. "I don't want to think about it anymore, for now."

At that moment, the remaining members of their lunch party arrived: Blossom's sisters, Bubbles and Buttercup. She was amused at the sight of them standing side-by-side; they were quite the opposites. Bubbles, blonde and blue-eyed usually wore pastels and brightly colored, feminine dresses while Buttercup, dark-haired with eyes like jade, dressed in black t-shirts and jeans. Despite their physical differences, their choice of professions overlapped. Bubbles was a costume designer for local performance groups, and sometimes Buttercup would ask their sister to come up with styles for her independent rock band. Perhaps she was the one most opposite to her sisters, Blossom mused to herself. It amazed her how different they'd grown up to be, starting out similar as triplets.

When the sisters joined the table, their group became the liveliest in the shop. They hugged, laughed, and added dramatic gestures when telling stories about everyday goings-on in their lives. After catching up on their day so far, they addressed the fun of the antics they'd gotten into the previous night.

"Sometimes, I think we're as bad as my students," Abby said with a laugh.

Blossom liked listening to Abby's stories about her twelfth grade Government Class. As a teacher, Abby had a special talent for balancing the duality of being young, trendy, and connected with her students while still commanding respect for the rules in her classroom. Her ability to motivate the youth to learn about world issues was inspiring. Blossom often wished Abby used her interest in politics to pursue a career in law, but understood her desire to stay amongst everyday people. Abby often joked if she had become a lawyer, she'd lack the time to keep her house safe while her husband worked on his inventions, when he wasn't giving lectures as an engineering professor at the local university.

Blossom first shared a class with Kuki and met Abby soon after. Abby and Kuki, she found out early on, were childhood friends that grew up together in the same neighborhood, along with Abby's current husband, Hoagie, and Kuki's boyfriend, Wally. As Blossom's career progressed, she shared more classes with Hoagie, making him a valuable asset to her line of work. If there was some part of technology she didn't understand in a case, Hoagie could explain it in terminology she grasped quicker.

"We need to get to ordering if I'm going to make it back to class on time," Abby said, standing, eying her wristwatch.

Blossom pushed her chair back, but remained sitting when Bubbles laid her hand on her forearm.

"Buttercup said she'd treat you today."

She looked to her other sister, whom, with Abby and Kuki, was already in the process of leaving the table. "Oh, no, you don't have to—"

"You like that turkey bistro thing, right?"

"Yeah," Blossom said half-heartedly. She waited until the others were out of earshot before turning to Bubbles. "You guys have got to stop paying my way for me."

She shrugged. "It's not a big deal. You deserve it!"

"You don't have to keep treating it like it just happened," Blossom said while pulling her chair back to the table. "It was dying relationship anyways. I expected us to break up."

"But it did just happen. You were with him for _years_ and the last month you lived together. Two weeks isn't enough time—"

"I don't have any time to worry about it. I might have my first case that could really help get me recognition for other work."

Bubbles groaned. "So that's it, then? You're going to marry your job?"

"Marriage to anyone or anything is the least of my concerns," she said with a laugh.

Her sister tapped her fingers across the top of the table. After a moment, she sighed, and then said, "Is your client single, at least?"

"N-no. He's married, and he and his wife are expecting their first child."

Though Mandark's dark features and slender build were attractive in their own right, she had no desire to pursue any sort of personal relationship with him. By withholding information from her already, she was convinced her initial perception of him was not too far off. He was a well-guarded individual with a harsh demeanor, acting only on self-interest. But she wasn't hired to weigh the moral standards of her client. As she thought about her second meeting with the defendant, she blushed, deciding to not mention his assumed bachelor status.

The others returned with their orders. Kuki was the first to notice Bubbles had yet to order anything. It was then she admitted that after meeting with everyone here, she was going to a luncheon for a dance troupe she had recently designed costumes for; the director wanted to show her off to others who might be interested in her work.

Blossom understood where her sister's concern for her personal relationships came from, Bubbles being the most maternal of the three. But sometimes she wished she would take her own advice. If she was so concerned about Blossom's relationships, why hadn't she taken the time to engage in one of her own? It was a thought quickly pushed aside when the meeting from earlier crossed her mind once more. She needed time to sort everyone's story out.

"Welcome to Morbucks Coffee, what can I get you today?"

"One medium chocolate caramel cappuccino, and… a medium coffee."

"Which roast would you like with that coffee, ma'am?"

Blossom thought for a moment, recalling the small sip of what she had mistaken as her own drink yesterday. It was the bitterest drink she'd ever tasted.

"Your darkest roast, please."

She'd hoped Dexter was a man of ritual and would return to Morbucks this morning. If not, the next time they could speak, Mandy would be there filtering what he should and shouldn't say, giving Mandy and Dexter the advantage. No matter how hard she thought about her own morning visits to this coffee shop, she could not remember if she'd ever noticed him before yesterday. As of late, she couldn't consider what she did in the mornings as part of any routine. On a whim she would order from this shop, other times she would eat breakfast with her sisters or Kuki at a locally owned hot spot.

Blossom decided her base of operations would be one of the tables closest to the front counter. She'd dressed conservatively in grey trousers, a white dress shirt, and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. If her polished, no-nonsense style failed to stand out, her pose would not. She sat with her back to the counter, facing the entrance of the store, and legs crossed, adjacent to the table. It excited her, setting up this meeting, as if she were a game hunter. She smirked when her target walked through the door.

As expected, it did not take long for Dexter to notice her. He caught sight of her in his peripheral vision as he stood in line. He did a double-take before blatantly staring at her, arching his brow.

"Good morning," she said, greeting him with a beaming smile.

"You."

"I've taken the liberty of ordering for you. Would you like to join me?"

She watched as he weighed his options. Sarcastic quips did not come easily to him in the morning, she assumed. He took a seat across from her at the table as she re-positioned herself to face him. She slid his cup of coffee in front of him, but he took no interest in it. A silent moment passed between them. Dexter's expression hadn't changed since he first noticed her. Blossom prepared herself for a witty retort from him, but felt a little disappointed when she realized they were not going to begin by conversing with their usual banter.

"It's still black—I didn't know if you wanted anything in it, so I left it alone."

"I wonder," he said, looking down at his cup, "if this tactic has actually ever worked for you. By pretending to take interest in my personal preferences, do you think I'm going to tell you more information?"

"It's not really a matter of 'how much.' I need specifics. As head of your company, I'm sure you know setting a sense of equality between two negotiating parties is a key factor to coming to an agreement. If I can establish this mutuality now, I should have no problem in attaining the information I need."

"Then what's in it for me?"

"It would be best to cooperate to avoid any additional charges, I should think."

"I think your definition of mutuality is warped." He took a long drink of his coffee.

Blossom seized this moment to rethink her strategy. Naturally, he felt cornered by this confrontation. Defensive retorts were not helpful. She would have to find a way to drop his guard. Perhaps it was time to change the subject.

"Another all-nighter?" she said.

He leaned back in his chair. "The sympathetic card isn't going to work either, sister."

"I know." She smirked. "I find it amusing you wouldn't try gaining sympathy from me. Yesterday, you noticed I was inexperienced. You could use that to your advantage. I'm only human after all."

"I'm not convinced."

She laughed, looking down at her hands, entertained by her own private thoughts. Just as quickly as they appeared, she pushed them away to rejoin their conversation. "I understand it's a very stressful situation for you right now. Your reputation is at stake, and no monetary value can replace it. You're probably wondering if I already view you as guilty. But that answer doesn't matter because I'm not here to help you. I was hired to take the opposing position in this case. At the end of it, if the justice system acts as it should, one of us will be rightly proven wrong. The only advice I can give you is this," she said as she stood up, "get some rest. If you aren't guilty, then there's no changing that. If you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to do what's best for you. So whenever you think you're ready, you should call me to continue this interview." She pulled her business card out of her pocket and offered it to him. She knew it was next to impossible they would speak again without Mandy present, but her intuition told her to offer it regardless.

He hesitated before taking the card out of her hand.

Blossom picked up her cup and then pushed in her chair. "Right, well, I'm sure you're pretty busy so I'll be going. Just leave a message with my assistant whenever you want to get together." She waved as she made her way to leave.

When she stood outside the coffee shop, she sighed. She wanted to revisit yesterday and correct her behavior. What she thought was a harmless joke could set her case back, depending on how tight-lipped Dexter decided to be. She needed to hear, from both sides, the origin of the microchip in the patent in question. If he hadn't stolen the idea from her client, she would have to get him to admit the microchip was used in a way not described in the patent. If the latter was a reality, it would nullify the patent Dexter submitted, making the one Mandark registered the only real patent. From Blossom's current understanding, this microchip was in most of DexLabs and Mandark Industries' industrial grade products. The chip acted as a failsafe for the energy capacitors in the robotics. If, for any number of reasons, a robot experienced too much or too little energy in its system, the chip would turn off the robot until it could be repaired. It was essential to have this precaution so as not to cause injury to people near the machines.

Today she felt she made up for her actions a little. This was the best course of action: plant a seed of trust and wait for it to grow. She was confident Dexter would talk to her about the chip. The unusual part of her case actually rested with her client.

After yesterday's meeting, Mandark explained to her the reason for his tardiness. He had been with his wife, and their doctor. An hour before he arrived, he'd learned they were expecting their first child. With this news, he decided he would be unavailable for any sort of questioning from her or any further work for the case. He presented to her a badge that would allow her access to his company and any company files. Blossom wanted to protest, but she felt the oddity of her current situation stifling. He was setting her up for failure. Regardless, she found no way to vocalize this with evidence. She understood parenthood was a life changing experience, even if she'd never been close to entering it herself. Perhaps the term should have been "all consuming" rather than "life changing," though she didn't realize a child would consume all of ones time without even being born.

When Blossom entered her office building, she found it empty, noting Kuki's belongings for research were gone. Yesterday Blossom gave the Mandark Industries badge to Kuki, putting her in charge of collecting information from her client's computer files. When she finished explaining the entirety of their situation with the case after their luncheon, Kuki whistled. Blossom agreed the chances of this case going to its full potential was still up in the air, but assured her they were going to give it their all. She still couldn't shake the feeling of missing the bigger picture between the two corporate executives.

She sat in her office, finishing her cappuccino while checking her e-mail. Laughing to herself, she opened the letter from Kuki. Did she think her boss couldn't manage things without her for a few hours? Blossom looked over the letter quickly, gasping at the end of it. She'd forgotten she had made an appointment with another client today to give legal advising. In thirty minutes, he'd be here, expecting her to discuss a potential case.

Jumping from her chair, she hit her thigh on the inside of her desk, knocking over her cup and spilling its contents into her lap. The drink wasn't as hot as it initially was, but the spill caused her to stand in shock for a moment. She kicked her desk and then picked up the cup and threw it into her garbage can. As for the remaining coffee, she used paper towels from the office bathroom to clean it up. When the mess was taken care of, she sat back into her chair and sighed. Perhaps she could hide the spot on her pants with some paperwork when she went to greet her client, spend the rest of her time behind her desk, and go home to change before Kuki got back. But first she would need the paperwork for today's client.

Blossom looked through the drawers of her assistant's desk, skimming over the paperwork, and pulling documents that had recent dates. The phone rang. She answered it offhandedly.

"This is the Law Office of Utonium, Utonium speaking."

"So you run your own office, huh? Where did Mandark find you?"

She sat up straight in the chair, dropping the papers on the desk. "O-oh, it's you. That was quick."

"I thought you wanted to talk to me."

"I do!" she said quickly, "A-about the case. I just didn't think you'd be willing to talk so soon. When can I put you down for?" She reached for Kuki's planner and a pen.

The door to the office opened, and Blossom removed the receiver from her ear. Dexter stepped inside, slightly out of breath, pocketing his cell phone. He was wearing his lab coat, leading Blossom to believe he made up his mind to go to her office shortly after arriving at work.

"Actually, I'm available right now," he said while grinning.

She placed the receiver down. "I'm about to see a client. Now's not a good time."

"Absolutely," he said, placing his thumb and forefinger around his chin. "Looks like your client will just have to reschedule."

"No, you're going to have to make an appointment with me first."

"Well, the thing is, I don't know if I'll be willing to talk any time after this. I might just decide to relay everything through my lawyer instead. But in this moment in time… gee, I guess I'm willing to talk about anything, really." He shrugged.

Blossom stared at him for a moment, taken aback from his sudden audacity. Maybe, she thought, she should have slipped him a decaf coffee instead.

"Anyways, why are you sitting at someone else's desk? Or did you lie about your name?" he asked while adjusting his glasses. He'd read the name plate at the front of the desk.

"This is my assistant's desk. I was looking for the paperwork for my next appointment." She blushed, willing the spilled coffee on her pants to dry faster. "Listen, I can't cancel this appointment. He's on his way here now."

"But he isn't here. There's still time."

She slapped her hands on the desk, standing. "Stop acting like a spoiled brat. I don't have time for this right now."

"This doesn't help my argument against the brat claim, but do you know it looks like you've wet—"

"I know!" she said, sitting back down. "I hit my leg on my desk and spilt my coffee just before you called." She closed her eyes and massaged her temples, wishing she could hide for a few minutes in her office. "I was just going to wing it until after this client and then go home and change. I mean, I've got something to wear in the meantime, but it isn't very professional. I don't mean it's entirely unprofessional, but in my case, it wouldn't really look well for me to wear it." She covered her mouth to stop herself from continuing. She didn't need to justify herself to him, nor did she want his pity.

He scratched the back of his head, and then snapped his fingers. "Okay, I've got it. You can go change your clothes and I'll take care of your client."

"I'm not leaving you here alone. I won't know if you've told him anything inappropriate."

"Then change into your other clothes and hide out nearby. And if I say or do anything wrong, you could always step in."

Blossom bit her lower lip. "Well, okay. I guess I could listen from my office." She looked over at the clock on the wall across from her. She only had ten minutes before her appointment started. "This is totally unprofessional," she muttered as she left the desk.

She retrieved her dress from her car and then ran back inside the office. In one breath she told Dexter she'd seen her client from the road and slammed her office door shut, locking it behind her. As she changed into her dress, she listened to the men by pressing her ear to the door.

"You're Mr. Jamison, correct?"

Perhaps he wasn't as much of an idiot as she thought. He'd known to look for her clients name on the papers on Kuki's desk.

"That's right, but, I thought you were a Ms. Utonium."

"I apologize, but Ms. Utonium is actually unavailable today."

"Oh, but I made an appointment with her—"

"Yes, yes, she mentioned that. Unfortunately, I'm the reason for her being unavailable. It's a bit of an emergency in my case, and I know your time is valuable, so let's compromise. How much did she charge you for your time? I'll double that if you let me have her for the day."

"Oh, no, I couldn't—"

"A thousand dollars and a promise you'll call back tomorrow to reschedule ought to do it."

They were silent for a moment as Dexter filled out a check for the man. Blossom pulled herself away from the door to readjust her dress in attempt to pull the zipper all the way up. She didn't need to listen to the rest of the conversation. Her head felt like it was spinning. She leaned forward on her desk to ease her dizziness. He'd paid a complete stranger a thousand dollars to monopolize the rest of her time. Where was he going with this?

She heard a knock on her door.

"Yes?"

"Just thought you should know it's all taken care of," he said.

"Why did you do that?" She swung the door open.

He took a step back. "Do what?"

She felt the blood rushing to her face. "Why did you pay him all that money?"

"Is it a lot? I don't remember anymore. Mandy bills me and I usually have H.R. take care the payments." He smirked. "A little black dress. Classy. Do you always keep one of those on hand?"

"No, it's from—" She paused. "Forget it. I couldn't get the zipper in the back. Will you help?" she said while looking at the floor.

"Sure."

She turned around while pulling her hair over her shoulder, hoping she'd pulled it up high enough to cover the back of her bra. This wouldn't feel as awkward, she thought, if she hadn't seen his expression before she turned around. Their cheeks were flushed with a matching crimson color. But it was better than the zipper slipping down if she'd made the wrong move.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she turned back around.

"I guess you want to get back to your place to change."

"Oh, you're coming with me," she said while placing her hands on her hips. "You've been acting too spontaneously for my taste, and I don't want you to decide you've changed your mind while I'm gone."

He made to speak a few times before settling on agreeing.


	2. Chapter 2

Dexter offered his car for the ride over, but Blossom insisted he'd done enough for today. He would have agreed with her under normal circumstances, but realized he'd gone beyond the point of absurdity a long time ago. Their meeting was in no way typical and in a matter of two days, he was already accompanying her to her place. It was strictly business, but still unusual. And though he would never admit it to her, if her scheduled client had argued Dexter's initial offer, he would have gone much higher with the amount. He wondered where his sudden spontaneity came from, half knowing the answer already. How long ago did not getting his way stop being an option? And how long could he pursue this self-indulgence before it became dangerous territory? He sat in the passenger seat, following these thoughts until Blossom pulled him away with conversation.

"This isn't an open invitation to visit me whenever you want, you know. I'm only doing this because I won't have any free time after this."

"Right now fits fine into my schedule as well, thanks for asking."

She sighed a "whatever," and focused back on driving.

He leaned his arm on the car door, looking out the window. Like him, she lived somewhere Downtown, close to work. Perhaps this was one last way for Mandark to get back at him before growing out of these childish antics entirely. His claim was big enough to do some damage to Dexter's repertoire. But the lawyer he hired was the oddest factor in this case: bright, richly-colored hair that framed her face and back, slender-bodied, long legs, and an intelligence that could nearly match his own. Out of all the evil acts Mandark could have committed against him, this was the worst.

"What is it?" she asked. She'd caught him staring.

"I was just thinking, earlier, you said I was being too spontaneous for your taste. I'm not a spontaneous person in actuality. I was debating whether or not to explain it to you, but I feel I'd have a hard time convincing you. Unfortunately, I've given you a bad first impression."

"I guess that makes us even," she said quietly. "Disorganized and clumsy aren't words I'd use to describe myself normally."

She parked her car in the lot in front of her apartment complex. As they made their way into the building and then to the elevator, Dexter noticed the slit in the back of Blossom's dress. He hated Mandark more than ever. He hated that he had the power that brought her into his life, and that he currently had the authority to take her out of it at any moment. He doubted this case would continue for much longer, having faith in Mandy's abilities. And due to their bickering, he figured Blossom wouldn't be interested in anything he had to say once the case ended.

Blossom's keys jingled as they exited the elevator. She'd been chatting for some time about the recent completion of this building. Dexter made an attempt to acknowledge her by periodically nodding, but in reality, he was not listening. They stopped in front of room 706. In the brief moment before Blossom stepped inside her apartment, Dexter's legs grew heavy. She turned back to him when she stood in her doorway.

"Well?"

"You're being awfully trustful of me."

"You're a public figure. If you did anything out of place or were involved with something you shouldn't have been, it would hurt you to fall under the scrutiny of the public eye. If anything, you've got more to risk than I, so I'd say you were being the more trusting of the two of us."

He wondered if everything she did was calculated to benefit her in some way. Regardless of what she'd planned, he decided it would be awkward to leave now, and somewhat troublesome since he didn't have his car. She locked the door behind him once he was inside.

"I should only be a few minutes," she said as she walked down the hallway that led to the other half of her apartment.

Now that she'd left his vicinity, he felt his thought processes clear up a little. He was standing in the _foyer_ of a woman's apartment he barely knew, a woman who was hired by his longtime rival to convict him as a thief or cheat him out of business. Inevitably, he knew Mandy would be upset with his actions, but Blossom's logic didn't seem so bad. It was simple really. If he told the truth, he would prove his innocence to her. Perhaps it was her straightforward manner that made her trustable and made him willing to tell her whatever she needed to know.

Out of curiosity, he looked around her apartment from his spot, intrigued by the thought of her personal life and how it worked for or against her professional life. Immaculate and organized, the apartment showed nothing special at a glance. But Dexter's knack for keen observation kicked in and soon he was making assessments as to what kind of person she really was. Immediately in front of the foyer was the living room, a couch and chair circled around an entertainment cabinet, a television in the center. A couple of filled bookshelves leaned against the walls farthest away from him, leaving him unable to read any of the titles. The coffee table's surface was cleared and a blanket draped over the couch retained the shape of which it rested on. Dexter guessed she didn't use this space often.

He took a step forward to look into the kitchen, located in an open room on his right, connected to the foyer. It too did not have any sort of clutter or sign of use from its owner except for a clean pan resting on the stove top. The hallway connecting to the left side of the living room, he assumed, led to her room. From what he saw, he thought the place picturesque in the sense that it was uninhabited. Did she often stay with someone else, he thought. His heart sank. He never considered that she could have already been in a relationship.

Then he noticed boxes on the floor in the kitchen still taped shut. Perhaps she'd just moved in. He tried to recall what she was talking about just before they entered her apartment. It was a newly finished building, wasn't it? Maybe, like him, she wasn't originally from Townsville, and was drawn here by the amount of business it provided. The trail of questions running into one another firmly reminded him he knew nothing about her. Logic dictated from him to take caution, and he was a man of logic, he reminded himself.

When Blossom returned to the living room, redressed in similar attire as she wore this morning, she and Dexter began the discussion of where they were going to conduct their interview. It was then Dexter admitted he should not be away from work much longer. Blossom readily agreed to accompany him to his lab. Too readily, he thought.

* * *

While in her room, Blossom told Kuki through a series of text messages how she managed to convince Dexter to sit through an interview with her, leaving out the details of their exchange in the office. Kuki sent her congratulations and informed her of her almost completion of data gathering at Mandark Industries. They planned to meet after they were finished to discuss their findings. She gave her assistant the impression that she had been at the main office of DexLabs for some time, when in reality she'd just arrived at the building with its founder.

Inside, they were greeted by a woman with light pink hair, dressed in a pencil skirt and business suit with the DexLabs logo on the right side of her blazer. Blossom assumed she was his personal assistant. After her greeting, the woman scolded Dexter for skipping out on work. She read his itinerary from a miniature digital notepad, emphasizing on the list of things he was to already have finished by the afternoon, but he merely rolled his eyes. Despite her unusual choice of hair color, she was quite beautiful. Her thick hair curled at the ends, framing her round face and neck. And though she was upset, her voice remained in even-tempo, giving it an almost calming effect.

He cut her off mid-sentence for introductions. "Computress, this is Ms. Utonium, Mandark's lawyer. She's here to ask me a few questions, so go ahead and give her clearance for today."

"Yes, Dexter."

Realization hit Blossom swiftly. This thing in front of her wasn't human. It wasn't a trick of the lights that made its eyes change color from its default color of black to yellow. She tilted her head slightly, asking, "An android?"

"Actually, she prefers the term 'gynoid.' Semantics, really."

"Hardly," Computress replied. "I've been programmed with a woman's voice since the day of my creation. Especially now, I'm more than qualified to carry a gender-specific title."

"She's a self-learning model, my only one. I think it's going to stay that way for a while."

Computress returned to her notepad, swiping and tapping at various intervals.

"She's impressive," Blossom said. "I thought she was a real person."

"Thanks."

"Dexter," Computress said, "I've managed to rearrange your schedule to make up for your unexpected absence. If you complete your tasks in Sector G within the hour, I should be able to push everything else you've missed to tomorrow. This should not put you too far behind for this week."

"Right, well, if that's the case, I guess this is where we'll part ways for a little bit," he said to Blossom. "I'll leave you with Computress for now. If she came with me, she'd just remind me how behind I am."

"Is your schedule always this strict?"

He looked up in thought. "I suppose it is. I never really pay attention to how much I have to get done because I'm usually just focused on getting it done. I guess Computress can answer all of that for you." He turned to his assistant. "She's here to ask questions, not to be asked questions, got it?"

"Of course," she said with a nod and soft smile.

Blossom wondered if the gynoid's sudden change in disposition was because of her creator's obedience. She wanted to laugh.

After Computress ushered Dexter to get to work, she informed Blossom there was a conference room available on the floor above them they could use for the interview. It was the same kind of room she'd sat in for the case's meeting. On their way to the room, Blossom noticed once more the building looked less like a place for experiments and lab work and more like a place for business meetings. Computress explained the use of the Main Office was indeed for business exchanges and the larger tower was where the actual lab work took place. They rode an escalator up to the next floor and after a short walk down a hallway of rooms with glass walls, they reached their destination. In one of the rooms, they sat opposite of each other at a long table, taking seats farthest from the door.

"Blossom Utonium, daughter of the fairly known scientist and freelance inventor, Professor Utonium, correct?" Computress said while interlocking her fingers in her lap and crossing her legs.

"Are you researching me right now?"

"I am programmed to learn as much as I can. If researching your public profile is not permitted by you, I will not do so."

"No, it's fine. It's just," Blossom considered her words before saying, "you're really impressive technology. I can't help but wonder, do you process everything in real time or do you save all you're interactions for later observation?"

"If you are worried about the privacy of our conversation, there is no need for concern. I do record all of my interactions with both the organic and inorganic, but no one is allowed access to my memory."

"You mean besides Dexter?"

"The likelihood of him accessing my memory is minimal. I was given permission to organize my memory in the most efficient manner for me, leaving it organized in a way that proves inconvenient for manual access."

"Manual access?"

"I am the mobile version of my entity, the main computer of DexLabs Technologies. To access my files manually would require access to my stationary system. Access is prohibited to this system, but there is a public network set in place for all employees. I also have full access to the public network."

"So you know everything that goes on in the company."

"An astute assumption, Ms. Utonium."

"Just Blossom, actually, is fine."

"Title preference noted."

Though her manner of speech was unusual for the average person, Computress conversed in a way that allowed Blossom to speak with her just as she would with a real person. She wondered how long Dexter had this technology. Was this the next big thing he wanted to give the world? If her client's case resulted in a victory, would it cause the loss of financial resources to pursue it? Did she want a hand in potentially stopping this evolution of robotic study? Or did her client have something similarly planned, and this lawsuit was his chance to ultimately get ahead of Dexter?

"Computress, how long have you existed?"

"My program has existed for a little over twenty years, but I've only been conscious of my existence for seventeen years. I have experienced complete rewrite once, in my fifth year of existence, shortly after my upgrade to consciousness. My mobile form has existed for twelve years in various forms, and my current form has existed for two years."

Blossom blinked. "I-I didn't think Dexter was that much older than me—so that means he programmed you when he was pretty young."

"Correct. I've been his partner for scientific research since his childhood."

Blossom couldn't combat a sinking feeling. She hoped Kuki's research led her to evidence that showed Mandark was as caring about his creations as Dexter. Even though Computress was a twenty year old program, Dexter never discarded her. He continued updating her so they could work together, keeping her memory intact. Earlier, when he admitted he wasn't going to create another like her, it wasn't because he found her annoying. He found her irreplaceable.

"What exactly is your role when it comes to working in the lab?"

"I observe and give suggestions based on these observations, but I am unable to execute any action without permission."

"So if Dexter is about to make a mistake, you can't stop him?"

"Not without his permission."

"Did you know already about the patent in question?"

"The patent in question is used precisely how it is described, and was submitted before the patent Mandark Industries claims to be the correct one."

"How interesting—I've never met a computer with a bias for her creator," Blossom said with a short laugh.

Computress frowned. "My observations are never biased."

"You've over-looked some facts about this case. Firstly, Mandark Industries isn't making this claim. It's only Mr. Astronomonov. The patents happen to be in the names of the individuals, before either one legally established their companies. Secondly, though Dexter's patent was submitted before my client's, my client's was approved first. Each patent has different claims, but the actual product is used for the exact same purpose, which means one must be inaccurate, and ultimately invalid." She paused when she saw that Computress's expression hadn't changed. "I didn't mean for it to sound like a bad thing. The whole human-computer relationship is new to me. But your ability to emulate human emotion and rationale is amazing. I think you're the only one in the world like you."

They heard a knock at the door and turned to watch as Dexter entered the room.

"How's the interview going?" he asked as he took a seat next to Computress.

"Great," Blossom said immediately. "She's definitely given me some perspective."

Computress stood quickly, causing the other two to stare. "I better go rework your schedule for tomorrow," she said without looking at anyone in particular.  
After she closed the door behind her, he scratched the back of his head and said, "That was unusually cold, even for her."

Blossom knew now she had offended Computress with her human comparison, initially unaware her words would affect the gynoid's mood so drastically. She didn't want to risk having to repeat her conversation to reveal what had upset her. If she was going to optimize her time here, she would have to keep in control of the conversation.

"Maybe she's a little jealous about the attention you've given me."

"I suppose it's possible. She doesn't get to interact with too many people besides me. Sometimes my sister comes in to chat with her, but it's mostly just to check in on me. I guess I should figure out a way for her to interact with more people now that my sister won't be here as often."

"Why's that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Did… didn't Mandark tell you? They just found out they're going to have their first kid."

Blossom sat up straight, blinking. "He's your brother-in-law?"

"I, er, well, yeah. I don't know how well it's known publicly, but I figured Mandark would've inform—"

"But if you're family, then why…"

"My sister says he's just being his usual competitive self. But something hasn't been right about this since day one. I was hoping you could tell me."

She shook her head. "This case seemed so normal at first. A motive." She held her hands up in pause, though Dexter had no intention of interrupting her. "There has to be a motive. He's going after your reputation, not your money. Did you say anything to upset him?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. He and my sister have been together for a while now, so we pretty much try to get along for her sake. The serious legal battles were all before they were married."

"There are too many contradicting factors from what I've heard to call it anything right now. I mean, on the one hand, it's risky and pretty consuming, time-wise and financially, to initiate a case like this, but on the other hand, it doesn't seem like he's putting a lot of effort into it."

"What makes you say that?"

"He…" Blossom paused. She thought about everything she learned in school, about her role as a lawyer, and about the case. She wanted to remain loyal to her client, although if he was keeping things from her, she supposed, there was never an agreement of loyalty to begin with. Even as someone she was going to prosecute, Dexter had been a better ally. "When he approached me for this case, I admit I was a little at wit's end with other cases and a few personal things. It wasn't until yesterday I noticed he chose to leave out details from his initial claim. Then, after our meeting, he told me he wasn't going to be able to work with me because of his wife, er, your sister. He gave me access to his lab for research, though, looking at it now, it was probably just a pacifier." She noted that she would have to ask Kuki if there were any areas she couldn't into get to with the badge. "Whatever evidence there is of an ulterior motive, if it exists, isn't there."

"If my sister knew anything," Dexter began, "I'm pretty sure she'd tell me."

"Let's not assume the worst. There are a lot of holes in this story. For now, we can't let on we suspect anything." Blossom stood. "I've been meaning to confront him on his noninvolvement anyway, so maybe something will come out of that. The only other person who knows we've talked today is my assistant, and it should probably stay that way."

He nodded.

Blossom pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to see the time. Nearly two o'clock. "I better check in with her."

"I'll show you another exit, something that's more discreet than the front doors."

Dexter led Blossom to the backside of the building where they took the emergency stairs down to the bottom floor. This exit put them in the employee's parking lot, located directly behind the building, next to the visitor lot. Beside the emergency stairs, there were two ways to access the employee's lot. The first was to go into the building with a keycard, and the second involved a gate in the chain-linked fence with the same keycard reader that led to the visitor's lot. As they made their way to the gate, they exchanged their personal phone numbers, promising to update one another when they attained new information.

Blossom pocketed her phone, and then felt a firm tug on her wrist. Dexter pulled her to hide behind the nearest car, silencing her protests with a glare.

"Mandark's here."

After a moment, they peeked through the windows to see where he parked his car. Only the car they hid behind and the chain-linked fence separated them from the visitor's lot. Dexter pointed to a black sports car parked two rows from their hiding spot. Mandark exited the car. He walked towards the front of the Main Office, but stopped only after passing a row of cars. Another car drove into the lot, and it appeared he stopped to watch it. Blossom looked to Dexter to see if he had recognized the other car.

"Mandy," he said, motionless.

When Mandy left her car she approached Mandark, who had hailed to her, meeting him half way. They stood close to the fence, near the car Blossom and Dexter used as cover. The two in hiding ducked down, inching closer together in attempt to hide their lower halves behind the tires.

"Funny to see you here," Mandy said.

"I was informed by my lawyer's assistant that my lawyer was here."

"And that required you running over here?"

"Well, I was going to wait until she left to confront Dexter about it."

"You mean to tease him? Are you trying to ruin Dee Dee's plan?"

He laughed shortly. "If she really wants to go through with this, I won't try to stop her, even if it's troublesome for me. But I'd like to have fun with it."

"Neither of you have grown up, really. If you bother him too much about it you might start getting careless. If we keep doing our part, we can only hope they'll do theirs."

"Fine. You're here now anyway, so I guess it'd be a little too suspicious if we both show up."

"I'll be over later this evening to give you both an update."

"Right. Thanks, Mandy."

Blossom watched Dexter as Mandy and Mandark parted ways. His face paled and his expression stiffened. She'd always suspected there was an underlying story behind this case, but never would she'd guessed this was a case of _coup d'état_ from within his own family.

When the sound of Mandark's car faded into the distance, Dexter stood, and then began pacing. Blossom bowed her head. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to have her own sisters sabotage her work, but found it impossible. After all of that hard work, the people he believed he could depend on were trying to take his success away from him.

"Computress, tell Mandy I'm gone for the day. Yes, I'll be back tomorrow."

She jumped at the sound of his voice. He'd called his computer on his phone. When he hung up, Blossom stood next to him.

"Dexter—"

"You should drop Mandark's case. If they're doing what it sounds like they're doing, it'd be better if you weren't involved."

She frowned. "So you're just going to let it happen?"

"Absolutely not," he shouted. A little more quietly, he said, "I can't have you get in the way."

"In the way? If I hadn't come here, you wouldn't have heard any of this! I can help you. I want to stop them, too. I may not know much about you or your family, but I hate the idea of them doing this to you, and I hate that they… that I let them use me to get to you."

His expression softened, and eventually, he sighed. "Luckily, we found out before any real damage had been done. Come on, I'll get you out of here. I've… got a lot to think over."

When Blossom met with Kuki at their office, she kept most of what had gone on a secret. She couldn't afford another slip up on her assistant's part, even if the mistake was unintentional. For now, Blossom gave her the impression she didn't discover much and that the next step would be to learn how the energy capacitors worked. This, she decided to herself, would be the first step in dropping Kuki from the case. It would be a gradual, delicate process that she hoped she had the time for. If she cut her off too soon Kuki would become suspicious. If it happened too late her assistant could make another mistake that would give away their preemptive knowledge. Knowledge Blossom hoped to further tomorrow after her conversation with Mandark.


	3. Chapter 3

Having skipped his morning coffee, Dexter arrived early to work. Like most nights as of late he didn't sleep for long, but contrary to other mornings he was restless. He replayed the events of yesterday in his mind looking for a sign that would disprove his worst fears. When Blossom told him not to assume the worst, he tried to take those words to heart. Her outside view probably served him better than he could comprehend at the moment. Rationale became harder to practice the more he learned about this case.

His personal office door slid open, but he hesitated before entering. Mandy sat in his chair wearing her typical scowl, arms folded.

"You avoided me yesterday, didn't you?"

"Good morning," he said flatly. "A phone call would've been nice."

"Answer my question."

He took a moment to quell his temper. Already she was acting like she owned the place. He placed his hands in his lab coat pockets. "I wasn't avoiding you, _per se_, just work in general. I'm sure you heard Computress complain."

She stood up, walked in front of his desk, and then leaned against it. "I did. She mentioned you came in just for a meeting and left. It was kind of sudden for you to take off like that."

"I suppose. Though in fairness, I don't really take vacations. I need some time off every once in a while." He understood she was trying to get him to admit meeting with Blossom yesterday. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of doing so.

"You came in for a meeting, but you didn't come back to see me."

"Business is business. I figured you'd be a little more forgiving."

She gave a small, "hmph," before standing up straight. "Maybe you should consider taking more time off. Even after one day you still look horrible."

He stared at her, hoping he hadn't looked too shocked at her words. Behind his back she was possibly part of the plan to take his company away from him. But in person she continued acting like the caring friend he'd known all these years. How, he wondered, did people blatantly lie like this without guilt or remorse?

He blinked. "Yeah, I'll take that into consideration."

"Anyway, I came here to tell you I finished the outline for the negotiations. We should probably go over it together so we're on the same page. And we have to decide on a couple of meeting dates to propose."

"Well, we could, but I'll probably go along with whatever day Mandark comes up with."

"And here I was worried you couldn't handle being a responsible uncle."

He agreed offhandedly, wishing the outcome of this scenario would present itself before the birth of his niece or nephew. That child deserved the best of care, free from the petty bickering of adults. Why Mandark and Dee Dee decided to go through with their plan at this time was still a mystery. The only conclusion he could come to is that they had decided to initiate their plan before the news, and the intricacy of it didn't allow them to back out. The motivation for their actions, to his dismay, would have to be uncovered by Blossom. Any sort of direct confrontation on his part would only reveal his suspicion.

"Before we get started, I need to check in with Computress."

"You didn't see her on your way in?"

"No. She's at her charge station, I assume. Either that or she's still mad at me."

"You could program her not to be."

"I could, but that would ruin the experiment."

"Regardless of the complexity of her programming, she won't ever be a real woman."

"She isn't meant to be. There are too many variables with people. As a computer, I can expect her to accomplish tasks without my oversight."

"So why give her human emotions?"

"That's more of a test of my abilities. The complexity of processing emotions expands my robots' abilities to process objectives. A lot of her programming gets transposed to the rest of my inventions."

"You're not an idiot, so I think you know where I'm going with this. I don't like the fact that you work with something that resembles her."

Dexter frowned. "I let Dee Dee design her. If there's any resemblance to the woman you're referring to, it must be coincidental."

"And the fact you gave Computress a woman's body two years ago is also entirely coincidental?"

"I'm not here to reminisce with you about the _good ol' days_. If you want to talk business, fine. But if you just came here to bother me, I'm not in the mood, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

They stood locked in a glare until Mandy looked away.

"I'll e-mail you the outline." She made to leave. "Let me know when you finish and we'll go from there."

Dexter remained in his spot for a few moments after the door closed behind her. He pulled his phone out of his lab coat pocket and then scrolled through his list of contacts. When he found the name he was looking for, he called the number.

* * *

As the music from her phone blared through the silence of the room, Blossom turned over to face her bedside table. All the stress from the case was beginning to catch up to her, and she decided this would be the morning she would use to regain her lost sleep, waking up at eight instead of six. She needed to be in top shape, mentally. It was probably Kuki calling to see where she was. She picked up the phone with one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other.

"Hello?"

"Oh, um, sorry. You sound like you were asleep."

She sat up swiftly. "Dexter? What's wrong, did something happen?"

"Nothing that requires immediate attention. I just spoke with Mandy; rather, she ambushed me at my office. I wanted to tell you what she said before you talk to Mandark so maybe you can confirm some things for me. But if you're still sleeping, just call me back—"

"No, no, it's okay. I was waking up. What did she say?"

Dexter relayed his conversation with Mandy and his concerns over Mandy suddenly questioning the existence of Computress. He hoped Blossom could find anything that would hint at Computress's involvement, if any.

"I guess it would make sense for her to be a target," Blossom said after he finished. "She knows everything about your company."

"Unfortunately I can't disable her. All of my work is connected to her system."

"But she's a system on her own aside from what I saw of her, right? She said only you can access her main system, so turn off her mobile system."

He sighed. "I was afraid you'd come to that conclusion, too. Without her recording her observations, it makes working pointless. And using the public network is risky. Though, I suppose it's better to lose some of the records of my research rather than all of them."

"Then just don't do as much work so you can keep track of it on your own. You probably shouldn't be overloading yourself with work now anyways."

"Yeah," he said with a small laugh. After a moment, he continued with, "You'll have to have patience with me; I tend to over-complicate things."

She pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her free arm around them. A wide smile spread across her face. The calm, quiet sincerity in his voice melted her heart a little. It was okay, she thought, to have this feeling for now, privately, and discard it when the case was over. She was the only person he could trust, and she wanted to be there for him. "That's okay. But there's something that concerns me a little. Mandark hired me, so why do you trust me?"

"You mean besides the fact that just after two days of meeting me you've suggested double crossing Mandark on my behalf?"

"Yeah, besides that." She could feel the blood rushing to her face. It was uncharacteristic of her, yes, there was no denying this.

"You did buy me a cup of coffee."

She giggled.

"Actually, and I've been meaning to mention this, but I've met your father a few years back. He was a guest speaker for a class I took in college. When I spoke with him personally, I noticed he had a very straightforward, honest quality about him, a lot like you. Gaining recognition without merit doesn't seem like your style. I assume that's why your father never went into the business of inventing, to avoid, well, the business of it all."

"That's partially true. He's also pretty adamant about doing what you love versus profit."

"I also remember him mentioning you and your sisters. It's too bad we didn't meet back then. I was seeing someone at the time, so I'm sure you know how that goes."

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. She realized what she had done and then quickly changed the topic. "Oh, it's already eight o'clock? How did that happen?"

"Well seven precedes eight—"

"_Ha ha_, very funny. Anything else I should know before I single-handedly get Mandark to reveal his true intentions and save the day?"

"Be careful. The Mandark I knew as a kid wasn't above deceit."

"I will."

Blossom's conversation with Dexter left her feeling light-hearted, slightly easing the guilt of betraying her client. Though it was still unclear as to who had properly submitted the patent in question, the idea of his family taking the company Dexter had built far outweighed the original case. Upon reading the records of Mandark Industries Kuki obtained yesterday, it was clear to Blossom why Mandark would want to knock Dexter down a peg or two. Dexter was always one step ahead, and it was proven repeatedly in cases his work was legitimate. Mandark, on the other hand, had settled out of court for all but one of the cases he found himself as a defendant. In court, he'd lost. Blossom mentally marked that off as an obvious red flag she should have seen waving violently in her face. Now that her life had cleared itself up for her to focus on her work entirely, she felt she wouldn't miss another.

The main office of Mandark Industries was only a couple of blocks from DexLabs in Downtown Townsville. The setup of the building was similar in that there was a section in the front dedicated to business and the remaining backside of the structure was the actual laboratory. While Dexter's company sported a sleek, futuristic look with cool blues and whites, Mandark's company was modeled from Gothic architecture, covered in black, silver, and red. Inside, instead of seeing a lobby decorated with many windows, skylights, and greenery, Blossom walked into a large room with dim lighting, small windows above eye level, and robots in the same color scheme as the building going to and fro. She felt sorry for sending Kuki to this place on her own without first having gone there herself. All of the business she'd conducted with Mandark before was at her office.

She approached a lone robot standing a few feet from the front door. It turned to face her when she was almost next to it. It stood about waist high, round-faced with red eyes. The rest of its body was sharp and angular, a compressed form of the human figure on wheels.

"This is Mandark Industries' Main Lobby. If you have an appointment, you will need to check in." The robot pronounced each syllable shortly, with exaggeration to punctuation.

"Is Mr. Astronomonov in?"

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"Then no, he isn't."

She glared at the machine. "Regardless, I do have clearance." She showed it the pass, holding it out long enough for the robot to scan its surface.

"Very well. Name?"

"Blossom Utonium." She assumed it was letting Mandark know she was here.

"Proceed." It held out its arm, pointing to the rest of the building.

"Aren't you programmed to help or tell me where things are?"

"The directory is located next to the elevator. This conversation is terminated."

"Really, you're just as infuriating as your creator," she said, adding a short growl.

On the directory, she found what she believed to be Mandark's office on one of the upper levels of the main building. It was the only room on the directory without a name. But she knew she had the right room when she stood in front of the supposed door to his office. It was fairly plain besides the large silver M. She knocked.

The door slid open; Mandark stood on the other side. "Ms. Utonium. I heard that one on the Mandroids logged your arrival. I compliment your powers of deduction. You found my office rather quickly."

"Mandark, we need to talk."

The severity of her voice stunned him into a short pause. He moved out of the doorway, ushering her inside. Blossom turned in time to see him push a button on a panel next to the doorframe. A chair rose from the floor in front of his desk. He took the seat at his desk as he offered the chair to her. She sat, and then crossed her legs while readjusting her skirt.

"I'm glad to see we've finally dropped the formalities, Blossom. I've never seen the point of them. Ah, but to the actual point, you've come here with a purpose I presume."

"I never act without purpose."

"Then, what is your purpose?"

"Actually, I came here to ask you that question."

He sat back in his chair. "I suppose you found certain parts of my history that need clarification. Where should I begin?"

"It's not your past that needs clarification. The facts are clear enough on that. It's the present. You've kept things from me in regards to the case, and then removed yourself from it. To be blunt, if this continues to happen you're going to lose."

"Unfortunately, I'm terribly busy and I don't have much time between work and my personal life. I hired you because you seemed competent enough to carry on the case by yourself. I gave you full access to my lab to accomplish that. I don't know what else I can offer."

"If you can't give me the truth, then I suggest you drop the case."

"There's nothing more for me to share."

She stood. "Then I quit."

"Wait," he said, jumping from his seat, slapping his hands on the top of his desk.

The suddenness of his actions surprised Blossom. She'd never seen anything but a composed, sly demeanor from this man. She waited from him to speak first.

"Just wait a minute. I've invested too much into this case for you to quit. And your assistant came in and took copies of a lot of files yesterday. If you quit—"

"As part of our contractual agreement, I've not mentioned this case to any media source, nor have I presented your company's files to any such persons. And it will remain that way. You can see to the deletion of your files from my computer personally. But I will not have a loss on my record because the person I represented was dishonest."

He sat back down. "Unbelievable. My wife was right about you. You really are the perfect candidate for this job."

Internally, Blossom was beside herself. Now was the moment of truth. She stayed unmoving, allowing him to continue.

He motioned for her to sit again. "We were afraid you'd start to figure things out. That's why I removed myself from the case."

She took a seat in the chair once more.

"You've probably already come to realize the real reason for this case isn't over some stupid patent. My wife, Dee Dee, Dexter's sister, expressed some concerns about him, the direst of which being his work habits. Dee Dee's afraid that if Dexter keeps working at his usual pace, it'll make him ill. I was skeptical until two months ago. Dexter was admitted to the hospital after having chest pains, and consequently passing out. The doctors concluded the causation was stress related. His family told him to take it easy, and he did at first. Though not long after he fell back into his regular work habits.

"Dee Dee figured if asking him to take less of a workload failed, taking the work away from him might do the trick. When she asked for my help, I couldn't refuse her. I contacted Mandy to help me create a case against him. Then I hired you. You filled in pieces of the case Mandy could not. And your method…" He grinned. "The day we presented the case to him, your frankness really bothered him. It's something only you can do. His family's too soft on him and he would merely suspect me of acting on old habits."

Blossom bowed her head in thought. Something unknown to her still didn't seem right about his story. She wanted to confirm his claim about Dexter's hospitalization.

"If you quit, I won't be able to do anything else for him. I'd like to see my wife at ease about all this during her pregnancy. She doesn't need extra anxiety because of Dexter's stupidity. Blossom," he said making eye contact, "I know this is an unusual situation, but I won't ask more of you than to continue working on this case as you normally would. I guarantee you will be compensated for your time. Just name your price. Whatever you want me to pay you, I will. No amount is worth forfeiting the happiness of my family."

"I… can't agree to anything just yet." She stood. "I'll think it over and let you know."

Mandark nodded. "Thank you."

Blossom saw dark circles under his eyes for the first time. She left the room, mind racing with a heavy heart.

"Yes?" Blossom said after hearing a knock on her office door. She'd spent the past hour on her computer researching Mandark's claims.

"You have someone here to see you," Kuki said.

Blossom looked at her phone lying in front of her on the desk. There a notification for five missed calls. She had a pretty good guess as to who'd come to see her. So much for a covert operation, she'd thought to herself, and then wondered if there even was an operation to continue.

Outside her office, she emerged to see Dexter and Kuki glaring at one another. Of course, Kuki had no idea as to why he was here. In her mind he was still the criminal they were trying to convict. When they noticed Blossom's presence, they dropped their silent feud. Blossom stood next to Kuki.

"I'm glad you're here."

Dexter looked taken aback. "You are?"

"There's something important you failed to mention yesterday." She made eye contact with her assistant.

"Oh," Kuki said, "well, while you two talk, I'll go get us some lunch. Are sandwiches alright?"

"I'll have my usual, and he'll have the greenest, healthiest sandwich that place has to offer." Blossom continued as Dexter made to speak. "Also, get him one of those green tea drinks, if you can. If not, just water. Absolutely no soda, though."

"Yes ma'am." She gave her boss a mock salute before leaving.

It wasn't until they were completely alone Dexter spoke up. "What're you doing?"

"You have reasons to be concerned with your health. Why didn't you mention your hospitalization?"

"What does this have to do—"

"The causation listed on your medical record was, 'high amount of stress, work related.'"

"Was that his reasoning? I told you Mandark isn't above deceit. He—"

"How many hours a week do you work?"

"You believe him?"

She looked away.

He threw his hands up. "Great, just great." He turned to leave, muttering to himself.

At the same moment, Blossom grabbed his sleeve. When Dexter realized what had happened, he stopped.

"Do you want to know what he said?"

Dexter didn't respond, so Blossom locked her arm around his and led him to the seating across from Kuki's desk. They sat in silence for a moment while Blossom considered her words.

"Your sister's worried about you. She thinks you're working too much. She's already told you this before, hasn't she?"

He nodded.

"So what's different from then and now?"

"I'm not… there's nothing wrong with me."

"I'm not denying they're taking a strange way to show you they're concerned, but I do understand love and fear make people act out of the ordinary. I'll share this with you in confidence to better illustrate my point. I'm adopted. My sisters and I were orphaned at infancy. My dad has always been very honest about the fact that we weren't his girls biologically, but it didn't matter because we became family the moment he took us in.

"While in grade school, he'd come to every event, even when we asked him not to. It wasn't difficult for parents to tell we weren't related to him. I'm not even sure if I'm biologically related to my sisters. I just remember my dad getting so upset if any of the other parents mentioned our differences. Not once did he ever raise his voice at us, and he'd always kept a positive outlook on things. The anger he showed the other parents was completely out of character. At first, it frightened me to think he was capable of such behavior, but as an adult I learned he was more frightened than I was. He thought if my sisters and I felt the judgment of others about our differences, we'd feel ashamed of our family. He was afraid he'd lose us as daughters. But his fear blinded him from the fact that we'd always believe we're family despite what anyone said." She smiled to herself. "It's that sort of leap in logic I think your sister is experiencing now. She wants to help, but she doesn't realize how much she isn't. Dee Dee wants to see you healthy. Mandark wants Dee Dee to be happy. And Mandy's just helping her friends."

Leaning back on the couch, he brushed his hair away from his eyes. "And what if this is all a trick?"

"Confront them together. If it's really over your sister's concern, they'll drop the case if you show them you understand. If it isn't, they'll find a way to continue with it."

He arched his brow. "You don't care if they know we've been meeting? Won't that make you look bad?"

"It's fine. Just be glad there isn't really a case," she said while patting him on the shoulder.

"This whole ordeal's been exhausting."

She stood up. "You really look like you could use a nap. You should. Kuki's out in the lunch rush, so it should be at least another twenty minutes before she gets back."

He nodded, grabbing one of the pillows at the opposite end of the couch.

* * *

With a yawn and a stretch of his back, Dexter sat up. Slowly, he recalled the location of where he'd dozed off. Talking with Blossom had quieted his mind enough for him to sleep deeply, something he had been unable to do for the past few weeks. Was it what they'd talked about, or was it just talking with her? Even when they thought his sister wanted to take his lab from him for personal gain, Blossom was the voice of reason, assuring him there was more to this story.

Looking about the room, he saw Blossom's assistant at her desk staring intensely at her computer screen. He yawned once more, this time with a little more volume.

"So you're finally awake, huh?"

"Where's Blossom?" he asked while standing.

"This is an office, not a hotel, you know. Anyways, you're supposed to be a genius. You figure it out."

"You're a lovely person. Really."

She turned around and picked up a paper bag, along with a plastic bottle filled with a green liquid. "Your lunch."

He took the bag and bottle from her, mumbling a, "thanks." He considered that he was still at Blossom's place of work, and decided it was best if he'd let her continue doing just that. He stopped at the front door, and said sternly, "Tell Blossom I give her my thanks as well."

"If I remember to," she said shortly.

On the way to his car, he opened the green tea drink. It tasted like water and leaves. He wondered if this was the kind of thing Blossom liked. He then pictured Kuki's glaring scowl. He hadn't expected her to be there because she was nowhere to be found on his previous visit. This time, she was the one who'd greeted him, though it felt more like a threat. She'd recognized his familiarity with her office, and made it clear she didn't like it.

"I know what you're up to, and I think you should stop. She doesn't need to get hurt again," she'd said to him.

He closed his car door, and then turned the key to the ignition. At first, he wanted to pursue Blossom romantically. But the security of his work overtook any thoughts about it. Now that he knew his troubles were coming to a close, he couldn't help but notice the little voice in the back of his mind asking, "what if?"

What if he decided to ask her out, even if it was on the pretense of thanking her for clearing up his family quarrel? Kuki implied he was going to hurt her. Did she mean as far as her reputation goes, or was there some underlying condition that left her fragile when it came to romantic pursuits? One thing Dexter knew for certain was that now he would give himself more free time, time he could use to find out.

Currently, his self-made free time left him with the more immediate decision of when and how to confront Dee Dee, Mandark, and Mandy. He thought about the next time they were all supposed to be together. It was the following weekend, at the premiere of Dee Dee's dance troupe's latest performance. He could pull them aside after the show and demand the truth from them. This would give him two days to figure out a way to open up the subject without involving Blossom. Making it seem as if she'd kept her word to Mandark and Dee Dee would help her reputation as a lawyer. If he omitted her involvement, it was the least he could do to show his gratitude.

On the night of his sister's show, Dexter spent the hour before he left his condo reciting how he wanted the confrontation to go. Twenty minutes before he left, he dressed in his suit and tie. This was to be the last production his sister directed prior to her leave of absence. It was early for maternity leave, but production seasons were long, and he vaguely remembered Dee Dee telling him about some new age life style that would maximize the health of her baby, and left little room for work.

Dee Dee greeted him at the theatre by chirping his name and pulling him into a hug, which eventually he returned. They were backstage, and arrived minutes before the dancers. Dexter looked around.

"Where's your adoring husband?"

She frowned. "He's on his way. Dexter," she paused, "I know it might be hard, but please don't be too upset with Mandark. He really is a good guy."

Dexter fought to hold back a smirk. He'd known what she was referring to, and agreed. Attempting a more serious tone, he said, "I'll keep taking your word for it. Don't worry about tonight. You just concentrate on your show, and I'll keep my temper in check."

She stared at him, her blues eyes almost shaking. When he gave her a reassuring smile, she sighed. "I mean it, Dexter. No funny business." She pulled her blonde hair back into a bun, signaling her readiness to work.

In the theatre lobby, Dexter met with Mandy and her husband, Billy, who was eyeing the small snack table at the far end of the room. Mandy dismissed him, warning that he needed to find her when the show started. Dexter didn't understand why Mandy was interested in such a simpleton, but dared not to ask about it. After all, he found himself attracted to Blossom, though he knew next to nothing about her.

"Just promise him a buffet and he'll follow you anywhere," Mandy said as she watched Billy disappear through the crowd. "He's always been like that."

"Well, isn't there a saying about getting to a man's heart through his stomach?" Dexter mused. "It's not too far from the truth for him, is it?"

"Despite it being physically inaccurate, no, I guess it isn't." She turned and peered at him. "You're in a good mood. What happened to you?"

He shrugged. "I took your advice. I've cut down my work schedule by nearly thirty percent."

Mandy looked past him. "I can see why she'd be a motivation to do so. She looks stunning in eveningwear."

Dexter followed her gaze. When he realized whom she'd been talking about, his heart raced. Blossom, in the company of a large group, entered the theatre lobby. She wore a purple summer dress and her hair was pulled behind her ears with similarly colored ribbons. The only other person he recognized was Kuki, who hung off the arm of a lanky, blond man.

"I didn't, I, um—"

"Relax. I recognize the blonde next to her, the one with the pigtails. She's involved with the show somehow. This must be her first production or something. I mean, did she bring her whole family, or what?"

Dexter glanced at the group once more. He noticed the two women closest to Blossom. Though they didn't have similar features color-wise, structurally they were nearly the same, he thought to himself. He figured her comment about being unsure of her biological relation to her sisters was just a result of some residual worry over the validity of her family, regardless of how she'd previously explained her situation.

Mandy cleared her throat, pulling Dexter away from his observations. "Don't worry. She's here to support her friend, not convict you."

He didn't think to tell Blossom that he'd wait for tonight to confront them. If he was going to make it seem as if he figured out Mandark's real intention with his fake case on his own, he'd have to avoid talking to her. Hopefully she would know to do the same with him.

"Well, I guess I'm going just find a seat inside," Dexter began. The rest of his thoughts were cut short when he felt a rough pat on his back. He turned to see who'd caused him such pain. "Mandark," he muttered.

"Hello, Dexter. Funny, I didn't think you'd be here tonight." Mandark took the small bouquet of roses from his free hand and placed them in the hand he used to greet Dexter. It was always strange to see him giddy as a drunkard over Dee Dee's productions.

"I was invited, wasn't I?"

"Right, of course."

"Then what is she doing here?"

Mandark followed Dexter's gesture to the group Blossom arrived with. He considered her for a moment before saying, "Her sister designed all the costumes for the show. She was the one who recommended Blossom to me."

"I thought I saw her somewhere before," Mandy said. "I saw her leaving here earlier just as Billy and I arrived."

"I take it Blossom's visit with you at your lab went rather well then," Mandark said.

"You know about it?"

"Mandy mentioned it."

Dexter noticed the quick glare Mandy gave Mandark before she explained.

"After Computress told me about your meeting with her, I felt it necessary to warn Mandark to keep a better eye on her when he told me he didn't know anything about it."

"Well next time you want to hire somebody to prosecute me, try not to get the Ice Queen. Anything I mentioned she found a way to relate it to the case. Her dedication to winning is annoying."

"Sounds like she turned you down," Mandy said with a chuckle.

"Like I'd even ask," he said while looking at the ceiling. He dared not watch their expressions for fear of giving away his intention.

"Perhaps I should go ask her myself," she said with a shrug.

Dexter made to stop her, but shortly decided he would have no reason to prevent her from asking about such frivolous matters. His stomach lurched when he realized he made this movement in front of Mandark.

"Well, if you want to eavesdrop, I've figured out a way to," he said after an awkward silence.

Dexter laughed uneasily. "Why would I want to do that?"

Ignoring him, Mandark continued, "You see the man with the cap and goggles? You probably don't remember he was actually a classmate of ours. Hopefully his memory serves him better than yours," he said as he made his way over to the group on the other side of the room.

Dexter followed reluctantly, coaching himself on made-up eavesdropping tips he'd accumulated over his youth. Don't make eye contact, he told himself, and remember to stay involved in your own conversation.

"Hoagie Gilligan, it's been awhile," Mandark greeted boisterously. "How have you been?"

Dexter glanced over at Blossom to gauge if Mandark's volume was as loud as he imagined it to be. In that moment, he'd already broken one of his rules for eavesdropping: eye contact. He quickly tore his gaze away, hearing Mandy's usual utterance of, "idiots." He didn't have enough time to confirm, but he thought he saw Blossom blush.

It wasn't going to work. He had too much on his mind already. There was no way he was going to be able to balance listening to two conversations at once, especially when a new thought invaded his mind. This man, his ex-classmate, wore a gold wedding band. Nothing in particular made him stand out. He was a bit short and stocky, and told a lot of goofy jokes in the short period Dexter had been standing in front of him. And when he introduced his wife to them, he saw nothing particularly extraordinary about her, besides the red cap she insisted on wearing with formal clothes. And yet, they seemed fairly happy.  
The lights in the theatre lobby slowly faded out then in, twice, signaling the beginning of the show. When Dexter, Mandark, Mandy, and Billy were on their own, Mandark offhandedly commented on Dexter's disinterest in seeing Hoagie.

"I would've at least pretended to be more involved if I were you. He's Blossom's go to when it comes to technology."

Dexter's first thought was how unimpressed he was with the goofy man, and how much better he could do as her advisor. Setting his jealousy aside, he thought of a remark that would mask his newfound interest. "So you think between him and you, you both could outsmart me?"

"And Blossom, too. She double majored in law and computer technology. You'd think I'd hire somebody without verifying their credentials?"

They paused in their conversation to take their seats.

"Just what are you getting at?"

Mandy leaned over to "shush" them. Dexter wanted to punch the grin off Mandark's face. But his thoughts of violence shortly fused when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Blossom had sent him a text message.

"Let's meet during the show. You leave first and then I'll follow," it read.

He turned off his phone.

* * *

Blossom powered down her phone after she sent Dexter the message. Though they sat on opposite sides of the theatre, the difference in rows was small enough to where she could clearly see the outline of his head. Between the second and third scene, Dexter stood from his seat and then exited the room. She counted out three minutes before leaving the room herself.

She muted the sound of the door closing by holding its knob until she heard a delicate click. Now that the lobby was empty, she saw Dexter immediately. He took his hands out of his pockets as he approached her. They met half way.

"You're the last person I expected to see tonight," he said with a small smile.

"My sister's the costume designer. Small world, huh?" she said with a shrug. "Anyway, I didn't get a call from Mandark telling me he wanted to drop the case. Have you told them we know?"

"About that," he said a bit sheepishly, "tonight's actually my first opportunity to do so. I've decided to omit your assistance. I'd rather keep your involvement as minimal as possible. You're good at what you do, and I think your record should reflect that. It would be better if they genuinely believed you only knew about the job you were hired for."

She placed a hand on her hip, shifting all of her weight to one side. "I told you I didn't care about that. Mandark half guessed it already. The important thing is to clear up any misunderstandings with your family before it becomes even more complicated." She paused. "Should I be there when you tell them?"

"Absolutely not," he said while crossing his arms. "You're getting credit for a job well done, whether you like it or not."

She giggled at his feigned seriousness. "I can't believe I'm letting you win our last argument."

"It doesn't have to be. I mean as far as us talking, not necessarily the arguing part." He let his arms fall to his side.

She stared open-mouthed for a moment before shifting her weight to her other side, away from him. "Dexter," she said over the resonating heart beat that traveled up to her ears, "now isn't a really good time. I'm sort of going through this break up, and um—"

"Then let's try one dinner together, as thanks? It doesn't have to mean anything else."

Blossom felt it still suspiciously sounded like a date, but having Dexter as her ally could prove useful in future cases. That reasoning was enough for her to agree. "Okay, one dinner, after the end of the case."

"Of course."

"And then I'll call you to let you know when I'm available."

He nodded.

The sound of the audience clapping slipped under the theatre doors. It reminded them where they were and why they met as they did.

"You should go back first," Dexter said. "If we returned together, I'm sure the others would suspect something."

Blossom agreed, though she felt a little sorry to go. She wanted to be there with him when he confronted his sister to make sure her concern was sincere in nature. If anything, she concluded, it would be an easy topic to bring up on the night of their dinner together.

The group Blossom showed up with said their congratulations to Bubbles and exchanged goodbyes in the parking lot. Blossom had driven over to the theatre from her office, having finished reading over paper work she would most likely use for her next legal advisement session. When she and her sisters remained, Blossom congratulated Bubbles again on her work for the show and mentioned how it was a shame their dad was caught up in too much research, and how uncharacteristic it was of him to not be here for an event. After Bubbles explained he promised to attend a later showing, the conversation paused and her sisters exchanged a glance.

"Blossom," Buttercup said, "there's something we've been meaning to tell you, before you go."

"Come over here for a second," Bubbles said, motioning for her to follow.

She did as they asked, hesitantly. "What's this about?" She looked between her sisters for a response, but found none.

"Just promise you won't be too mad at us," said Bubbles after some time.

"Or if you'll be mad, at least forgive us," added Buttercup.

Blossom looked away from her sisters to see they were joining another group loitering in the parking lot: her clients, Dexter, and his lawyer. She made eye contact with Dexter, who shrugged, looking as confused as she felt.

Dee Dee greeted the sisters. "Sorry," she said to Blossom, "Mandark and I want to call off the case. But I want to explain why it happened in the first place. You both have almost figured it out, from what I've heard. You deserve to know the truth, and I don't want there to be any misunderstandings."

It's a little late for that, Blossom thought to herself.

"This whole crazy idea started about a month ago, when Dexter and I were getting coffee together. And then you walked in, Blossom. After I teased him a little, in his own way, Dexter admitted he liked you. I didn't think too much about it until I saw you again with Bubbles. I asked her about you, and your sister said a lot of great things. I thought, this isn't just a coincidence."

"Then," Bubbles said, "Dee Dee explained why she'd asked, and we agreed it would be kind of funny if we set you two up together. So I told her a little about your break up with Brick. She told me Dexter went through a similar situation and hadn't dated anyone since. And, and the two of you have a lot in common!"

"But you're so stubborn," Buttercup said, "and you never tell us anything anymore. We tried to figure out if you were going to move on or not, so it wasn't like we could've set you up on a blind date, or something. So Dee Dee, Bubbles, and I came up with a way to get you guys to meet without seeming like we helped."

"It sounded like the right method for you, too," Mandy said to Dexter. "There's nothing we can really do to get you over your hang-ups with your ex-_fiancée_, so making it seem like you found your own way to move on might've helped you forget about the past a little."

"That's why you crazy women had Mandark sue me?" Dexter said, exasperated. "I'm not some little kid that needs his hand held. My decisions are mine—"

Blossom muted the sound of the heated argument around her, falling into her thoughts. Relief and anger clashed as she clenched her hands into tight fists. Just when she thought she had regained control, and was finally gaining recognition for her hard work, they'd crushed and falsified the progress of last week in a manner of minutes. She was caught between the feeling of betrayal and despair. Silently, tears began to stream down her face. Enough was enough.

"Blossom?" Bubbles said quietly, causing all conversation around them to stop.

"Really… you guys are the worst," she said, forcing a smile.

She turned around quickly and headed back to the other side of the lot for her car. Once in front of it, she hastily dug for her keys inside her purse. She threw her purse on to the passenger's seat as she sat down in the driver's seat. She glanced around to see if anyone had followed her. When she saw no one did, she wept.


	4. Chapter 4

A week after the confrontation, Blossom climbed the steps to her office building. She decided it was best to take a week off work to mentally calm herself and reflect on the events that recently happened. Her time of reflection involved ignoring calls from her friends and family, slacking on personal appearance and hygiene, watching copious amounts of television, and eating a lot of already-made, microwaveable foods. She found herself wanting to rant and rave about the stupidity of her friends and sisters, but the short-term joy she would've experienced fell flat when she realized Dexter was her only ally that would agree with her.

Inside, Kuki, who usually arrived before her boss, greeted Blossom with some reserve.

"I assume you knew everything, too."

"I did," said Kuki, "Most of it, anyway. Enough to want to speak up against it."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know. Part of me felt like we didn't know him enough to trust him. The other part of me wanted things to work out and you to be happy."

Blossom considered Kuki's words, deciding she wasn't particularly moved by them. She entered her office and locked the door behind her. She sat at her desk watching her computer screen trying to recall where she'd left off. But thoughts of the confrontation haunted her. Over her self-appointed break, she mentally examined everyone's confession. Though she wasn't as angry with them as she was initially, feelings about it still remained raw at the pit of her stomach. Her cell phone, which she'd placed on top of her desk, gave a short ring. She checked the message.

Kuki wrote, "Going out for coffee. Want one?"

Blossom declined. She wondered if Dexter would be there this morning, and if he'd gone in the morning during her time off. She recalled what Mandy had said about him. Blossom did relate to the hesitation to date someone new after a break-up, but failed to imagine the intensity of ending a relationship after an engagement. She and Brick were nowhere near ready for marriage, and the toll of losing her relationship with him still stung any notion of starting another one.

She stumbled into an unnerving thought. Now that they knew the false case was not over the concern of Dexter's health, would he fall back into his old work habits? Were they the result of his break up? Curiosity grabbed hold of her, causing her to furiously type away at her computer in attempt to find out more about Dexter's past engagement. Only a few articles listed the reason for their break-up, citing an anonymous source. The source claimed the woman had an affair, but none of the articles listed any information about her besides her occupation as a model. If she wanted to find out more about what'd happened, she would have to ask Dexter directly. Blossom frowned. If his sister knew about his issues with trust, why did she feel it necessary to go behind his back to trick him into a relationship? She imagined him sitting at home, moping just as she did last week. She picked up her phone.

The line rang twice before connecting. A man whom she didn't recognize answered.

"You've reached Dexter's cell phone. He's not available today, but I'll let him know you called."

"I didn't think Dexter would need a secretary even for his personal number. Or are you just a frivolous expense?"

"You're a feisty one, aren't you?"

Before she could respond, the man on the phone asked her to hold. She pressed her ear closer to her phone to better hear the background conversation.

"Yeah, it said Blossom, so I didn't know if—"

A second later, she heard what sounded like a scuffle. But the rumbling and scratching in the speaker soon stopped.

"Hello? Blossom?"

"Dexter?"

"Sorry, I didn't think he'd actually answer."

"You sound well."

"Yeah, um, how're you? You left really upset that night, so I didn't know whether or not to call. I figured you just needed some space."

"I did, actually. Thank you," she said, closest to smiling she had been for a while. "I was hoping we could talk more about it in person."

"O-oh? You still want to—okay, yeah. When did you want to meet?"

They took turns sharing their schedules and agreed to meet Sunday evening at a restaurant Blossom suggested. After they exchanged goodbyes, she set her phone down and rested her head on her desk. Of course there were people Dexter knew that she didn't. She felt a little ridiculous for being surprised at that fact.

* * *

The following Friday night, as he raced down the front stairs of his lab, Dexter took off his tie and shoved it into his pocket. He checked his watch. It read a quarter past eight. Frowning, he decided he wasn't going home to change if he wanted to meet his friends on time. Earlier in the week, Ben and Rex, two of his few remaining friends from his college years, persuaded him to go out for drinks. It'd been a couple of months since their schedules correlated with one another's, though Dexter had seen them both individually on occasion.

He paused when he caught a glimpse of someone sitting on one of the benches in the courtyard in front of his office. He thought the silhouette of this man looked familiar. With no regard as to what he would say, he approached the stranger. When the man's outline turned into his profile, it was then Dexter recognized the man as the blond that Kuki hung close to at the night of the recital. The man held a few sheets of paper in his hands, hunching over as if absorbing the information through osmosis. After he realized Dexter had been standing next to him, the man sat up and pulled the papers close to his chest.

"Sorry, am I not supposed to be sitting here?"

"You're in some sort of relationship with Kuki, aren't you?"

The man brushed some of his hair away from his eyes to peer at Dexter. "Er— who're you?"

"Oh, right—to explain," he said as he sat next to the man on the bench. Dexter told him an abbreviated version of the past few weeks in regards to meeting Blossom. He complimented Kuki's keen observational skills and loyalty to her friend. While these opinions were sincere in nature, his motivation for expressing them was entirely underhanded. With any luck, by the end of their conversation, Dexter would have a new ally.

"No doubt she acted like that," said the man. "Blossom just went through a nasty breakup."

"I don't know any of the details, but the message's clear enough. That's why I want to approach this as cautiously as I can. If there's anything you could tell me without overstepping any boundaries, it would be most appreciated, and, of course, would be kept in complete confidence."

The man contemplated his answer. "Well," he began slowly, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to let you know. The girls were planning on setting her up with someone themselves, so you're already at a disadvantage. Kuki and I met Blossom during college, and she was already with this guy called Brick. From what I've heard, which isn't much, they knew each other as kids, spent some time apart, met again at college, and then decided to get together. I always had a feeling there was something a little off with this guy, quick to argue. At least in front of us, Blossom treated him like any other friend more than a boyfriend. Not real affectionate these two. So when we found out they were moving in together, it was a surprise. The few times I talked to him one-on-one he seemed pretty unhappy with the whole deal. Real frustrated when it came to her treating him like a man, if you know what I mean."

"If they didn't have chemistry, why did they stay together for so long?"

He shrugged. "My guess is that they just got comfortable. Then again, Brick isn't the type to take a hint. As far as Blossom goes… I'm not really sure what she was thinking. Kuki and the girls are quick to defend one another, so it's hard to know what's truth and what isn't. What I do know is it's better to just stay out of it. Those crazy women." He laughed. "You're looking at a packaged deal here if you're really going after Blossom. Have you met her sisters?"

"Briefly. And under regrettable circumstances."

The man's expression brightened. "Oh, 'ey? You're the man they were talking about? Hard luck, mate. But you're still interested, so they didn't entirely screw up, did they?"

"Their methods were unorthodox, but they seemed to have been acting with good intentions, even if it's made things a bit problematic for me."

"No worries, she'll come around," he looked down, "though it is strange meeting randomly like this."

"Not entirely. I work here," Dexter said while pointing to his lab. "I own that building."

The man stared past him and whistled. "No wonder these women are making a fuss over you. Way to raise the bar there."

"What do you mean?"

"Eh, well, it's just that… sometimes I feel like I'm falling behind. All my friends are settling into their jobs and I… my opportunity hasn't come yet. And Kuki's got her job with Blossom. I've never told her, but I was kind of hoping we'd end up working together. I mean, it's fine if this is how things are going to be. She's happy. I don't want her to leave a good job for one of my _brilliant_ schemes."

"And what would be an alternate opportunity, preferably?"

"I've always kind of imagined we'd run our own business together. She really likes working with kids and she's kept most of her stuffed animal collection. I didn't know you could collect stuffed animals until I met her. I put two and two together and sort of planned out this idea for opening up a toy store or the like. We both majored in business, after all. It wouldn't be for some time though. I've straightened out my priorities. I'm marrying her first before she figures out she's too smart for me. That's why I was here." He pointed to another smaller office building down the street labeled Townsville Travel Agency. "I wanted to take her on a vacation and at the end of it propose to her."

"Where did you have in mind?"

He smiled weakly. "Well, that depends. My income can only go so far." He folded the papers in his hands in half, and then pocketed them. "Ah, listen to me. I'm only mentioning it 'cause you caught me in the middle of thinking about it."

Dexter snapped his fingers. "That's it!"

The man leaned away from him. "What is—"

"I believe we can help each other out." He pulled a pen from his side pocket, his checkbook from his back pocket, and then began writing.

"Whoa, hold on a second. There's no reason—"

"There is a reason." He signed the check. "Don't be mistaken. This isn't an act of charity. You've given me valuable information, firstly. Secondly, if you take Kuki on vacation, Blossom might focus less on her work with her assistant gone."

"What if she doesn't? She's pretty devoted, you know."

"Minor details." He didn't want to mention Kuki's distrust of him in regards to Blossom. Not to say her feelings were entirely unjust, but she was just another obstacle.

"You're really serious about her."

"Yes," he said while handing the man the check.

Glancing briefly at it, the man then swiftly held the check out for Dexter to take. "I-I can't take this. It's well over anything—"

"It's fine. Use anything left over for your wedding. Besides, if you are going to start your own business, you'll need to be able to invest in it at first."

"Yeah, but—"

He held up his hand to silence the man. "My income greatly exceeds my needs. Most of it goes back into my research, which, in turn, leads to the betterment of society. Just think of this as a more direct approach to investing in this betterment."

He stared at the check for a minute before pocketing it. "It must've been one heck of an impression."

Dexter laughed, standing. "My number's on the check."

The man jumped to his feet, offering his hand. "The name's Wally."

"Dexter," he said while engaging in the handshake.

"I'll pretend this is just a loan. When I'm successful, you'll get this back."

"However you wish to justify it is fine by me. I do have one condition though. This must stay between us. If anyone found out—"

"The girls wouldn't be happy, I know."

"Our mutual understanding is reassuring."

Ben arrived first at the bar, then Dexter, followed by Rex shortly afterwards. It was rare for the three of them to be together all at once. Rex was a hacker generally hired to test out security systems of major Fortune 500 companies. Ben, on the other hand, was an industrial spy for aerospace and energy technologies. His proficiency was in extracting information from parties involved using his charming personality. And although their jobs sometimes opposed one another, the three friends agreed early on to never talk about their work. Dexter knew they were stronger allies than enemies.  
Before Rex's arrival, Ben decided to tell Dexter about how popular his cousin's boyfriend's business had become. Being the most naïve of the three, Ben actually meant for his story to be code for how well he had been doing with his jobs. After all, Dexter was fully aware that Ben and Kevin were business partners. Gwen, Ben's cousin and, in Dexter's opinion, the smartest of the three, once worked with them as well, but dropped the idea when it turned from an afterschool hobby into a full-fledged career.

Rex parked his Kawasaki next to Ben's Mustang, a few parking spaces away from the front of the bar. He snapped his goggles against his helmet and then greeted his friends with a short wave. He pushed some of his thick spiky hair back into the tangled mess that rested on top of his head. This was only exaggerated when he stood next to Ben, who chose to keep his hair side-swept and neatly combed.

"_Amigos_," Rex said while placing his hands on each of their shoulders, "I know I'm a late, but not without purpose."

Ben crossed his arms. "Yeah, we get it, you're up to something."

"Gentleman, we're going to a house party."

"Whose?"

"A friend of three beautiful _señoritas_ I just met. They said we could be their dates if we gave them a ride. I told them about my friend with a Mustang. And then I told them about my friend with a Ferrari."

"And you're riding around on that piece of junk. They were probably kidding," said Dexter, knowing it'd be his car they'd take.

"Except I've already thought of that, so they gave me the address to the place." He pulled a torn piece of paper from his pocket. "And it's not junk. It's got history and personality."

Ben snatched the paper from him. "Then I guess that settles it."

Dexter's friends looked at him expectantly.

He sighed. "Alright, where are we going?"

Rex met the women outside of a restaurant a few blocks from one of the companies that hired him, he explained to his friends on the way over. He was stopped at a red light and was charmed by their catcalls, so he decided to pull over and talk to them for a bit.

When the men pulled up to the restaurant, they saw no one outside. Rex assured them that they must've gone inside to wait. Immediately, he spotted them at the bar, brushing past the server. Dexter, the last one inside, froze when he saw them: the Utonium sisters. He didn't want to alert his friends, so he continued to the bar, allowing things to play out. During introductions, the sisters alternated between quick glances at him. When it came time for Dexter and Blossom to acknowledge that they already knew one another, a silence fell over the group. The volume of noise in the restaurant seemed to rise. Her sisters couldn't contain their laughter at this uncomfortable moment, causing Blossom to blush and try to quite them with a, "hey!"

"You're not mad at us, are you?" Bubbles asked Dexter.

"Only a little."

She frowned.

Buttercup said, "Yeah, well, we were doing you a favor, too!"

It was Blossom's turn to laugh. When the others stared at her, she covered her mouth and nose behind both of her hands. When she dropped them, she said, "He was kidding."

Her sisters looked back at Dexter. He smirked.

Impatiently, Ben cleared his throat and then suggested to head to the party. The sisters finished their drinks quickly and paid the bar tender.

With Dexter driving, Blossom served as navigator in the passenger seat, and Bubbles sat in Buttercup's lap. Ben and Rex happily sat on either side of them. The men inquired about the party and its host. The sisters explained their childhood friend, Robin, was celebrating the beginning of her first gallery exhibit of her photography at the Townsville Art Museum. The exhibit premiered earlier in the week, but she was so busy, she wasn't able to celebrate her hard work until now. The conversation then split into two, with those in the backseat asking about each other, such as careers and relations to one another.

"So tell me," Blossom said quietly to Dexter, signaling the start of their own conversation, "do you often pick up women and take them to random parties, or is this a special occasion?"

"Let's say as often as you let random men take you to said parties."

"Which isn't often, if that's what you're trying to imply. I'm always the level-headed one," she said looking out her window. "Can't somebody else be that person for once?" After a pause, she turned back to him. "Anyways, it's not my fault you keep showing up."

"It isn't on purpose, believe me."

"Then why did you come tonight?"

"I expected a night out. It's not a big loss if the means change and the end result stays the same."

"But why are you still dressed like you came from work?"

"Ah, well," he said looking back and forth between the road and her, "I did."

Blossom raised her brow. But she was cut off before she could continue.

"Hey, are you guys up there having secret conversations?" Ben said, jamming his knee into the back of the driver's seat.

"Quiet, the adults are talking," Dexter replied.

Blossom pointed in front of her. "Robin's street should be the one after this." She kept her eyes on her side of the window for the remainder of the drive.

Robin lived at the far edge of Pokey Oaks, a suburban neighborhood outside Townsville. The road leading up to her house remained unpaved, lit only by the night sky and eventually the lights that escaped from inside the house. She owned an acre or two of land Dexter guessed from what little he could see, which excluded neighbors on either side of her property. Nearly fifteen cars littered the front lawn, parked at various angles. Dexter found an area that was mostly empty, hoping no one would park behind him.

When Ben got out of the car, he turned around and held the door open for his backseat companions, bowing slightly. "Ladies," he said while offering his hand.

Bubbles giggled, taking his hand. Buttercup rolled her eyes, exiting on the opposite side. She paused briefly when she realized Rex held the door open for her. He brushed off her gaze by shaking his head, admitting his friend was indeed very foolish. Tension absolving, she agreed.

So this would be the gist of the night, Dexter thought to himself. He glanced at Blossom, who was still giving him the silent treatment. The others made their way to the house as Dexter turned to lock his car with the remote. Blossom hesitated before following the others, but Dexter to grab her arm to stop her. The jarred gesture was filled with more force than he intended.

"Wait a second," he said quietly in attempt to soften his actions.

Unmoving, they watched the others enter the house. When they were gone, Dexter let go of her arm. Blossom faced him, brow furrowed as if demanding an explanation.

"In the car," he began, "I—what you do, is your business. I didn't mean for it to sound like…" His thoughts rushed at him with different ways to approach his apology, leaving him tongue-tied. "I'm sorry," he concluded before he could embarrass himself further.

"Me too," she said after a moment. "Everyone has their hang-ups. But I don't want mine to ruin our time together."

The simplicity and exactness in her statement cut through his jumbled thoughts, piercing the center of the target: what he was trying to convey.

"Agreed—ah, about mine too, I mean."

She took his hand. "Come on, I still have to introduce you to Robin."

The atmosphere in Robin's house buzzed and jumped like a live wire. In every direction, Dexter saw groups of people talking, laughing, eating, drinking, and dancing. The walls were decorated with photos of all sizes, some framed, and some taped to the wall. The hodgepodge of photos almost contradicted the _décor_, minimalist and Zen-like, favoring black and white. The upbeat music and chattering of other guests prevented either Dexter or Blossom to speak much as they made their way around the house. After searching guest rooms, both on the upper and lower floors, Blossom led them into the living room. She determined Robin wasn't there either. The stereo system, though, was now only a few feet away from them, and Dexter began to feel agitated by the noise. This was short-lived. Blossom touched his arm and motioned for him to lean forward. She cupped her hands around his ear, talking over the music.

"There's only one more place she could be."

They edged their way into the kitchen, cutting through one last group gathered at its entrance. In an instant, Blossom dashed to her friend's side, both women squealing at the sight of one another. Dexter waited through the preliminary conversation. How've you been, what've you been up to, you look great, and the party's a huge success were a few of the topics they covered in a matter of seconds. When Robin's bright eyes under her heavy bangs moved passed her friend, he knew he was about to be invited into the conversation.

"You're Dexter, right?" she said as she sat her drink down on a nearby countertop. She offered her hand.

He shook it. "Yes."

"You probably don't remember me, but we've met before."

"We have?"

"It was a few years back when I was interning, before I decided to stick strictly with photographing cityscapes and urban areas."

Blossom looked between them. "You never told me that!"

"I wasn't sure if it was him," Robin said, and then turned her attention back to Dexter, "but I definitely remember how out of place you looked."

"Where was this?"

"I'm sorry," Dexter said abruptly. "I don't remember you at all."

Robin stared for a moment, and then realized she'd never answered Blossom's question. "I wish I could remember more, but I took on a lot of different jobs at that time. Hm, maybe it's the hair. I don't know a lot of red heads. Say, would you guys like something to drink?"

"It's okay, you've had a long week. We can serve ourselves," Blossom said and then pointed to Robin's cup. "Need a refill?"

"If you don't mind," she said. "The _sangria_'s already out, but you guys can help yourselves to anything in the fridge."

Blossom looked up at Dexter.

"I'm alright."

When she was out of earshot, Robin stepped forward, talking a little more quietly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know she didn't know—"

He sighed. "No, it's fine. It was bound to come up eventually." He rubbed his eyes. The intensity of the music from earlier left a slight ringing in his ears, and a headache. "I've got to step outside for a second."

"You're not going to find much of a break around here. I've got a balcony attached to my room; that's your best bet. It's upstairs, above the noise, second room on the right. I'll tell Blossom you're up there."

He was about to protest entering her room but Robin left to find Blossom before she finished speaking.

Gradually, he made his way to the balcony. When he entered Robin's room, he felt like an intruder, and headed directly to the glass double-doors on the opposite side. He could still hear the bass in the music thumping below him, but the sound of it was muted by his appreciation of the starlit sky. He'd nearly forgotten how it'd felt to look up at the massive sky without a high-powered telescope or a well lit city below it. He tried recalling a previous experience, only remembering his childhood and his room in the home he shared with his family. He turned when he heard the door slide open behind him.

Blossom carried two glasses, a bottle of wine, and dangled a corkscrew on one of her fingers. She used her shoulder to push the door open enough to step through it. Dexter took the bottle and corkscrew from her, allowing her to distribute the glasses between her hands and then on the small table at the end of the balcony. Dexter closed the door behind her.

"What's all this?" he said while examining the bottle.

"Robin said it was fine, as long as we promised to replace it," she said with a laugh.

He joined her at the table. "Blossom—"

"It's okay. Obviously it's something you don't want to tell me, so I don't expect an explanation. Anyways, I hope red is okay."

"I prefer it, actually."

"Then it was a good guess," she said. She fidgeted with the bottle for a moment.

"Here," he said while extending his hands, "let me."

He opened the bottle and poured them each a glass. When he looked up from his task, he noticed Blossom staring at her hands at the base of her glass, lost in thought. The sound of the bottle against the table brought her back to their conversation. The light from Robin's room illuminated the area between them, softening her appearance. There was a lot about the party scene Dexter didn't miss, but Blossom was quickly making him forget. She leaned back in her chair, letting stray strands of her hair fall over her exposed shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed; he guessed she was still buzzed from her drink at the bar.

"This view is amazing during the day, too. I wish you could see it. She isn't done with the yard work yet, and she's waiting on city contractors to approve a paved road. I thought she'd move to the city, but I guess she wanted a place more like home, something like when we were kids. We were next door neighbors for the longest time. And lucky, too—there were a ton of other kids in our neighborhood."

"And where was home for you?"

"Here. Well, more like fifteen minutes closer to town. My dad still owns the home we grew up in. In fact, the first time I moved was when attended the university."

"Is that so?"

"What about you? Where are you from?"

"A small city about an hour away from here. I left home at fifteen because I was tired of the commute to work, and my family didn't want to move. They're also still living there, in our old house." He took a sip of his wine, expecting her to further the conversation. When she didn't, he knew then what answer she was looking for. "As far as my accent goes, I don't remember when or where I picked it up. My parents swear I taught myself how to talk with audio books, no doubt with foreign authors. I traveled overseas a lot in my late teens and early twenties, which probably perpetuated it."

"Does work make you travel a lot?"

"I don't do much business overseas yet. Back then, it was mostly for research." He stopped before mentioning any other reason. "So—patent attorney, how did you decide on that?"

"Usually I tell people I liked the challenge of earning that title; there aren't many of us, so there's a little self-importance there."

"But the real reason is…?"

"It's embarrassing to admit," she said with a small smile. "I kind of did it, well I guess, to not-so-inadvertently help my dad. He always protected my sisters and me, and I wanted to help protect his work. Not that I'm being entirely selfless! The technical side of inventing doesn't interest me as much as the business of buying and selling of ideas and products. Lately, I've been preoccupied, so I've mostly done legal advice." She finished off her glass. "I'm sorry, this is sort of weird, isn't it—telling strange half stories?"

"I suppose it can't be denied." He shifted in his chair, leaning on the table. "But it'd also be a shame to waste tonight on such depressing talk."

"That's true," she said as she poured herself another glass. "Okay, we'll save that talk for another night."

"Where do I sign? Or do I need an appointment for that?"

"Hey!" She pushed his arm playfully. "I charge hourly for consultations," she said in feigned seriousness. "And yes, I do charge for contracts, too."

They laughed.

After a moment, Dexter said, "I think what you do is very admirable. Inventing and researching can be a very lonely process, but having someone support you through it makes it easier. Your father's really fortunate."

"What about you? I bet your family's proud of your success."

"Yes, no question about it. It's just…" He suddenly became conscious of never having vocalized this concept. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful towards my family and friends, but there's always been something missing, like none of them are on the same level of understanding. I can explain anything I'm working on, and they know it's a big deal to me well enough. But they don't really _know_, right? They get this sort of faraway look, seeing right past me, but they still acknowledge me. Does that make sense, or have I lost it?"

She shook her head. "Then they tell you how great a job you're doing, or, if you've really gone over their heads, you get teased, but it isn't really that funny because it isn't exactly related to what you're talking about. Like you've wasted your time a little, but you still feel obligated to express yourself."

"I mean, even if they don't understand what exactly I'm saying, I'd feel like they cared more if they'd ask a question or two to at least try."

"Yes! It's not like I'm asking them to go to law school for the sake of understanding, but I can definitely tell when the effort's made. Well no more!" She raised her glass.

They gently tapped their glasses together.

"To our _camaraderie_ filled with mutual understanding!" Blossom said. "And anything else we come up with."

"Here, here."

At this point, they both finished their second glasses. Dexter picked up the bottle to pour the remaining contents between them. Blossom laid her head on the table, watching. She sat up when the bottle was empty.

"Clearly you poured more in your glass than mine."

Dexter looked between them, seeing no difference. He picked her glass up and poured its contents into his glass, and then drank from it when she started to protest. "Clearly you've drank enough if you think there's a difference."

Blossom got up from her chair to sit down on his lap, leaning her back against his chest. "Don't underestimate me. My stamina is better than that."

After she took the drink out of his hand, she shifted her weight to better distribute herself over both his legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she rested her arm closest to him around the back of his neck to help her balance.

"Well you're ahead of me, at least." He lifted the glass out of her hand, drank from it, and then set it on the table.

She pursed her lips as if wanting to say something, and then thinking better of it. She buried her head in his shoulder. "This is bad, isn't it? At this rate we won't be friends for very long." Sitting up, she revealed she was pouting. "You really like me, don't you?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure if it's the same for me yet. If I asked you to, would you wait for me?"

He laughed. "I thought that's what I was already doing."

"I know. I just wanted to hear you say it."

This moment was slowly becoming dangerous. Despite their physical closeness, Dexter knew now was not the time to make a move. Every time he felt himself slipping, his mind firmly reiterated what Blossom was trying to say: let's wait.

She stood up and said, "We should probably be better guests and go back downstairs. And I kind of want to know what my sisters are up to… no offense to your friends."

"No, I agree. I can't vouch for either of them."

As she opened the door to enter the house again, without looking back, she said, "I'm going to pretend you're kidding."

Downstairs, Dexter found Ben in a room that served as a den; he was sitting on a loveseat surrounded by a small gathering of people. Bubbles sat next to him talking excitedly with exaggerated gestures. They were, with little surprise to Dexter, the center of attention. He made his way around to the backside of the loveseat in order to speak to Ben. When he leaned against it, Ben acknowledged him.

"What's up?"

"I'm going to head out. Here, I'll call a cab so you can take the others home." Dexter removed his keys from his pocket, detached his car key, and handed it to Ben.

"What, why? It's only been like an hour."

Bubbles scooted closer to them. "Did something happen with Blossom?"

"No," said Dexter, "nothing happened."

"If that's what you think is best." Ben pocketed the key. "Rex is out in the living room. You can't miss him. He's out there proving to everyone how awful he is at driving."

They said their goodbyes as Dexter headed out of the den. In the living room, he saw Rex playing a video game with Buttercup, also surrounded by a collection of the party-goers. He kneeled next to Rex at one end of the couch to allow the onlookers to keep watching, waiting for a break in the game. After a minute of intense racing and harsh banter between the two competitors, Buttercup emerged as the victor.

Rex sighed. Grinning, he then said to Dexter, "She is _good_." He picked up and drank one of the shots of tequila on the coffee table in front of him. He then switched the glass for a dab of salt on the back of his hand and a slice of lime.

"Hey, I'm going."

Rex quickly took the lime slice out of his mouth. "Wha— no, stay. I'm sure you could take her."

"Come on, the game's starting over. I want to keep my winning streak," Buttercup said.

"_Uno momento_, Dexter's trying to leave."

"Penalty shot!" she said while leaning over Rex.

"I don't really—"

"Take it or I might have to explain why you're leaving."

Why did her sisters assume the worst, he thought. It was complicated, too complicated to explain here and now. He took the shot and then the chaser.

"How are we supposed to get home?" Rex said.

"Ben's taking you."

"Ugh, call it, BC."

"Penalty shot!"

"What now?"

"You're trusting the kid with the car and not me?"

"Can you blame me?"

The results of the race flashed repeatedly on the screen.

"Yeah, I might have to agree with Dexter on this one," Buttercup said.

"Alright, alright. One more for the road," Rex said as he poured the drinks. "Since any of us aren't driving. And you're bailing."

"Fine."

The three of them downed their drinks.

Dexter stood up before they could find another reason to get him to drink. Well, one last distraction from him leaving wouldn't hurt, he thought. "You know," he said as he adjusted his glasses, "I find it interesting you decided to go easy on her."

Rex looked at him horrified, knowing well enough it wasn't true. Buttercup retaliated by taking one of the couch pillows and tackling Rex. He shouted some profanities in Spanish through the pillow, but Dexter didn't stop to listen.

The cab company he called estimated the driver would be about twenty minutes. Dexter waited outside. There was a knot at the pit of his stomach, guilt for leaving without telling Blossom, but knew her protests would've been the end of it. And with the alcohol taking its effect, his mind slowed, restricting him to focus on only one mantra: go home and don't screw things up. He sat down on the steps leading to the front door and checked his watch. The hands and lines that indicated minutes blurred together. Instead, he checked his phone. It'd only been ten minutes since he made the call for the cab. The door clicked behind him. He hadn't gotten away in time after all, he said to himself.

Blossom sat next to him, stomping along the way.

Her silence made him uneasy. He had to break it. "Ben's taking you all home."

"I knew, I knew this was going to happen—"

"Blossom, listen to me—"

"I asked if it was okay for you to wait—"

"Please don't take this as not being interested—"

"You shouldn't have said it if it wasn't true—"

"That isn't—"

"Because if you had given me an ultimatum—"

"I'm not—"

"Between going out and nothing at all—"

"I'm not saying either of those things—"

"I would've said yes."

"You can— what?"

"I know it's selfish, and probably stupid, but I can't pretend to be this nice girl who was super attached to her ex-boyfriend and needs her space to get over it. I mean, I know I'm not fully over it, but we weren't in love. It just wasn't there. Stability, security, whatever it was, we took each other for granted. I'm still really upset, but I'm not sorry it's over, and I'm not sorry to have met you. I'm only hesitating because I'm not sure if I like you for you, or if it's because you keep saying all the right things. For the first time in my life, I don't know what I'm doing. I don't have a plan, I have no guarantees, and this could just be a waste of time. But if playing it safe stops me from being with you, then I don't want to do it." She pulled her legs up to her chest and laid her crossed arms on top of them. "I'm sorry, I was worried you'd think less of me for saying those things, but I'm terrible at lying, especially with the follow through."

Shocked and slow-witted, he couldn't formulate a response. He looked at her, and then the yard. The cab pulled up the road. A few seconds more and it would be at Robin's house.

"If you get into that cab with me," he said, "you won't be going home."

She nodded.

They were silent during the ride to town, tense and excited about what the next move would bring. Somewhere along the way, Dexter took her hand in his own. He couldn't make eye contact with her for long before wanting to kiss her.

He paid the driver, leaving the man's view before he could even offer the change. When he approached Blossom, she looked up at his building.

"Which floor do you live on?"

"The top. Each floor is a unit."

"Noise shouldn't be an issue then," she said with a sly smile.

He laughed shortly, pulling her into a hug. "But it's really not as fun if we don't bother someone."

She shook her head, silently laughing, perhaps not expecting a response. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned in to kiss her.

It took only one for the addiction to take effect. Soft, warm, he couldn't leave it or it might disappear. He moved one hand to the small of her back and rested the other between her shoulders as her legs gave way a little.

A car alarm a block or two away sounded, jerking them back into reality. They stared at one another for a moment, realizing standing outside wasn't doing them any good.

It didn't take them long to reach the elevator. Dexter looked down at his side. Blossom squeezed his hand, smiling. Her face was flushed. He hadn't remembered her being so red before; or was he starting to sober up? The thought hadn't stayed for long. The bell chimed, signaling their stop. It was no more than a few feet from the elevator to his front door, and before he knew it, Dexter was fumbling for his keys.

In what felt like mere seconds, they were inside, in the living room, around a corner, and then on his bed. He felt her racing pulse as he kissed her neck, down to her shoulders. But the persistent movement of her arm eventually pulled his attention away from her skin. With his eyes, he followed her arm to her hand, noticing her exposed leg slightly bent and her finger tips grasping the strap of her shoe. Dexter turned to undo the clasps of her shoes. He mentally cursed their tiny existence when it became clear he was not as sober as he thought. After a minute of struggling, he returned to Blossom, placing his arms on either side of her.

He paused.

A cool, sinking feeling washed over him as heard her gently snoring. It wasn't going to happen, he told himself, catching himself somewhere between disappointed and mildly unsurprised at his luck. The impatience he had with the pacing of the formation of their relationship wasn't unusual, but the intensity in which he experienced it was new. And it was in this moment, he realized he'd almost lost control.

Dexter carefully slid the blanket from under Blossom and then covered her with it, while making sure the pillow under her head provided her enough support. Grabbing a pillow for himself from the other side of the bed, he took another long, forlorn look at her. There will be other times, he repeatedly assured himself as he slunk into the living room and then headed straight for the couch.


	5. Chapter 5

The heat of the sun, at first, felt pleasant against Blossom's face, as the other side laid in unfamiliar sheets. As she awoke further, the heat became unbearable. She sat up, pulling some of the unfamiliar sheet with her, and took in her surroundings. As she committed each detail to memory, her vision returned to complete working order. And so did the visions of the previous night. This was Dexter's room, she recalled.

Across the room, directly in front of her, sat a large, worn bookcase, overstuffed with papers and books placed vertically and horizontally in haphazard piles on the shelves. It covered most of the wall, save for the continued piles of books and papers that rested on either and the doorway to the bathroom. She then looked for the source of sunlight that pushed her awake. To her left, the curtains were carelessly, slightly opened. Straining to peer outside the window without standing, she noted this window didn't actually have the sun in its frame, rather the sunlight reflected off a nearby skyscraper into his room. She thought it fitting to see even his living space was consumed by the site of this town.

Curiosity finally prodded her out of the bed, causing her to wonder where he was, and where she placed her shoes. Upon her search, she found her shoes on the other side of the bed, opposite from the window. She moved them away from the bed to beside the door frame, careful not to put them in the walkway. If she left the room with shoes in hand, she felt it would present a negative message about the previous night. And she still had a few things that needed clarification before taking her leave.

Along the window-less wall, Dexter set up a small work space, complete with desk, office chair, an average looking computer, and the continued pattern of papers messily spread on and around it. She examined the papers closest to her, trying to decipher anything she could recognize. She noticed his large, blocky handwriting combined with arbitrary equations in any sort of direction. Looking at them reminded her of the way her father worked, as if his brain worked faster than his hands could write, obsessed with the notion one more answer would satisfy his curiosity. But it never did, she thought, as she remembered all the times she reprimanded her father for not sleeping in his own bed. She then thought again of Dexter, who'd chosen this corporate scientist lifestyle from childhood, and she wondered if she'd correctly chose her words when she confronted him about overworking.

A short, low vibration jerked her back into the here and now. It was Dexter's phone. She peeked out the door, only to see the living room was immediately in front of her, contrast to her apartment. Careful to stay hidden, she took a step back from the door, tilting her head to continue to watch outside the room. As the phone shook violently on the glass coffee table across from the couch, Dexter felt for his glasses on the accent table against the arm of the couch. She noted how his night stand was also on the left side of his bed, wondering if this was done purposefully.

He adjusted his glasses and then, with greater ease, answered his phone. Blossom assured herself the reason why she was listening was because she didn't want to sit out there in awkward silence as he talked on the phone. And she wanted to know who'd called. She blushed slightly as he spoke, counting herself lucky to hear his low, somewhat gruff voice, having just woken up.

He answered in the affirmative a few times before saying, "Yeah, I'm home. She's here." He stood, as if heading towards his room.

It was at that moment Blossom decided to emerge in case the caller was actually looking to speak with her. She patted down her hair, hoping she didn't have crazy bed head hair, though rarely she did. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her approach him, stopped, and then turned to completely face her. With gusto, he tried to end his conversation with the caller.

"Yep―okay, thanks. Okay, bye."

He ended the call halfway through his "bye," and then pocketed his phone. Blossom guessed he was also a little nervous due to his inability to decide what he wanted to do with his hands. He jumped from placing them on his waist, to gesturing a greeting, back to the waist, and then finally letting them hang at his sides after pretending to smooth his shirt.

"Sorry, I didn't wake you, did I?"

"It's okay. I was already—I was just waking up when I heard you."

"That was Ben. He said your sister, Bubbles, wanted him to call me to find you because you left your stuff at your friend's house."

She nodded, but stopped midway. "Were they together?"

"I'm not sure. Do you want me to call him back?" he asked as he reached for his phone.

"It's fine," she said, slightly holding her hand up. It would only be right to extend the same privacy to Bubbles, since her sister didn't make the call herself.

"Did you, um, sleep okay?"

"Very well. _Too_ well," she said, brushing some of her hair behind her ear.

He chuckled. "So you remember that part, huh?"

"I remember everything, except for the falling asleep part." She scrunched her nose trying to recall how long she was on his bed before giving in to sleep.  
"It's better this way, isn't it? I'd much rather have your full attention when the time comes."

Blossom arched her brow, amused. "_When_, huh? You're awfully confident."

A small smirk spread across his face. "If honesty is the best policy, then I am no longer going to hide my intentions with you." Immediately he added, "If that's okay."

She closed the distance between them and took his hands in her own, lacing their fingers together. Fingers still entwined, she let their hands rest at their sides and she laid her head against his chest. Too bashful to raise her head to look at him, her voice bounced from the floor to their ears. "You can show your intentions as long as you plan to ask me out properly."

"Blossom."

She lifted her head just as he leaned forward, letting their foreheads touch as they gazed at one another.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, hiding her embarrassment. The juvenile directness of his question and willingness to follow her whim caught her off guard. The intensity of his stare and hesitancy to speak made her recognize that he was serious. She then realized she hadn't answered his question.

"Yes, yes! Of course I do," she blurted as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, hoping he felt the seriousness of her answer.

He had, she thought, because after that he returned her hug with the same joy and intensity.

* * *

"Here are those e-mails you needed for the Morgan case," Kuki said as she handed Blossom a Manila folder full of printed documents.

"Thanks!" Blossom replied, taking a few seconds to look away from her computer screen.

Kuki headed for the office door, deciding to glance at Blossom. Simultaneously, Blossom realized she needed a highlighter after opening the Manila folder. She spun around in her chair, completing a full circle, stopping in front of the supplies drawer of her desk. She grabbed a highlighter and returned to her work, grinning to herself, unaware she was being observed.

"Wait, wait, wait," Kuki said while wagging her finger, walking briskly back to Blossom's desk. "Something happened, didn't it?"  
"You could say that," she said, giggling afterwards.

Bemused, Kuki looked at her watch. "You, me, lunch, now."

"Yes, ma'am," Blossom said, giving her a mock-salute.

Outside their usual sandwich shop, sitting at one of the wrought-iron tables, the young women caught up with each other as they ate. Blossom apologized to Kuki, explaining that she had her own issues to work out and that she didn't mean for it to affect their relationship. Kuki assured her that she understood, having seen Blossom's previous relationship, and the eventual falling out of it. It was then Blossom admitted she was serious about Dexter and that they'd recently agreed to exclusively date one another. She'd already gushed about it to her sisters, but this hadn't extinguished her enthusiasm for telling others how he'd asked her out.

When Blossom's story ended, Kuki sighed in relief.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that. No offense, but I was getting really tired of mopey Blossom."

"So was I. I know I needed to be more honest with myself... But, um, you don't think it's too soon, is it?"

Her friend gave her a small smile. "Too soon for whom? I think it's really up to how you feel. If you feel this is right, you should go for it. Some people only need a few months to sort their feelings, and some people need a few years. Or fourteen years, in my case," she muttered.

As Kuki spoke, Blossom took a sip of her water, and then quickly set it down, struck with a sudden thought. "That's right! Your anniversary with Wally is coming up. Have you made plans yet?"

Kuki beamed. "Two weeks and counting. Do you remember how I wanted to vacation in Paris?"

Blossom gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Which means-"

"Yup."

"Kuki."

"I know!"

"He's going to propose!"

"Yes!"

"Why are you waiting two weeks? I could let you leave sooner than that."

"It's okay, it's the soonest he can take off from work. And I can't leave in the middle of a case. You know it's not like we can really afford to hire another part timer right now."

"If it's for you, I can manage. Worse comes to worst, I can contact Mandy for help. It seemed like she really liked me."

"It's fine. The idiot bought the tickets before he even asked me," she said, looking fondly at her glass.

They carried on their lunch discussing the specifics of Kuki's vacation and eventually breaking down the conversation into excited exclamations and bubbly laughter. Upon their return to work, the hours flew by as they filed and highlighted documents. But their joy couldn't be contained, and they sporadically broke out into song and dance, filling their office with the sounds of music on the radio and their voices.

At the end of the day, as she waved goodbye to Kuki, Blossom thought of her own plans. Dee Dee contacted her over the weekend in hopes to make peace with her through a home cooked meal. Though Blossom bore no lasting ill will towards anyone regarding her case with Mandark, she felt obligated to accept the invitation to ease their minds. This was the first moment she found herself able to respond after retrieving her phone from Robin's house. She sat in her car as the call connected. She rehearsed her apology for the late response in her head as the line rang.

"Hello," the voice sang on the other end.

"Dee Dee, hi, this is Blossom. Sorry I didn't call—"

"Blossom! Oh, just in time! Can you come over now?"

"Now?" she struggled to say as she realized her rehearsed apology wasn't going to happen. "Um, I was just returning your call..."

"It's fine, come over! Mandark just started cooking."

"Mandark?" she blurted before her brain could tell her how rude that sounded.

Dee Dee laughed. "I know, right? I was just about to snap a picture to commemorate the first time he's wearing the apron I bought him."

"And the last!" she heard him shout in the background.

"I'll send you our address, so we'll see you soon, okay?"

"Um, okay, but—"

The line beeped before it died. Still unsure of what just occurred, Blossom looked herself over, feeling glad to have called before she got home. She thought her usual dark colored pencil skirt, blouse, blazer, and high ponytail combo was appropriate for her former clients. She blushed. But now they were also her boyfriend's family. Determined to stay positive and composed, she thought about using this opportunity to verbally thank Dee Dee for her efforts, having some distance between then and now. A second later, her phone beeped, signaling that Dee Dee sent the address.

The house was far from difficult to find. In opposition to her brother's condo in the city, Dee Dee and Mandark lived in a large house in a small suburb in the surrounding area. In some aspects, it was much like the neighborhood she grew up in, but on the other side of Townsville. Crawling her car at a slow speed, Blossom took the time to examine the houses, wondering if this was similar to where Dexter and Dee Dee grew up as well. As she made her way further into the neighborhood, the houses drastically expanded in size, from simple country style layouts to two, three story heights. Dee Dee and her husband lived in the house at the end of a _cul-de-sac_, in the middle, as if part of a presentation.

When Blossom exited her car, she walked slowly, admiring the outside of their three story house. Recalling the harsh architecture of Mandark Industries, it was obvious who had the most say in the set up here. The soft yet eye-catching yellow paint of the house popped against the brightly colored variety of flowers growing up the front wall. Bunches of manicured gardens decorated the front lawn, breaking the uniformity of the tightly trimmed grass. Someone left the porch light on, even though the sun hadn't completely set yet. Blossom already felt welcomed amongst the potted plants placed around the porch, even though she'd yet to ring the doorbell next to the bold, red door.

When she did, she didn't wait long before she heard Dee Dee sing her greetings as she opened the door. Blossom found herself quickly ushered inside, and stripped of her blazer. As Dee Dee hung it on a nearby coat-rack, Blossom glanced around the _foyer_, which turned immediately into a large, open room, a staircase against the back of the wall, and archways on either side that led into the other parts of the house. The brightly colored theme carried over from the outside in, and the patterned walls, art, and plant life were simultaneously enchanting. Blossom complimented Dee Dee's home as her hostess linked arms with her guest's, signaling for her to follow. But their conversation abruptly ended when they heard the doorbell ring.

Brow furrowed, Dee Dee turned to answer the door. She stared for a moment at her unexpected visitor, letting an exaggerated "hmmm," escape. With one quick motion, she leaned out the doorway, and spoke sharply. Leaving the door ajar and her unexpected guest outside, Dee Dee returned to Blossom before dashing off into another room.

"This'll only take a second. I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Blossom replied, not knowing if her comment reached her host.

Their exchange must have piqued the curiosity of the person standing at the door because shortly afterwards the guest entered the house and closed the door behind him. When they made eye contact, Blossom felt her heart flutter, daring her to return to her behavior she exhibited with Kuki earlier that day.

Dexter leaned against the front door, face slightly reddening. "That explains why she told me to wait outside."

"She feels really bad about everything. And wouldn't take no for an answer about tonight. Maybe... you should tell her now."

He grinned. She recognized it was the kind of grin siblings expressed when they've gained the upper-hand in play. She saw it often between her own sisters.  
He used his thumb to scratch his forehead and glanced to the floor, pushing whatever scheme he'd just conjured to the back of his thoughts. And then he looked to her again. "How're you feeling?"

"Better. Still a little tired, but, I'm okay," she said, shrugging.

"I know, she's terrible on the phone. You can hardly get a word in," he said as he gestured in the direction of the house his sister was in.

Blossom slightly nodded, thinking back to her last conversation with Dexter. She called him to cancel their dinner date they'd originally planned at the dance performance. Between Robin's party and compounded stress, her body had finally told her enough was enough, and that she needed to slow down and rest. After she'd left Dexter's apartment the day following the party, her head congested and her muscles ached, concluding bed rest was the only cure. She thought back to his offer to visit her, and though it made her happy that he expressed his concern, her vanity outweighed her other feelings and she insisted she would see him later. The harsh reality of it was that her sisters brought her medicine and cooked her a few meals while she sawed logs, dripping from every orifice on her face, constantly red and puffy. Though weakened, she was determined to not let Dexter see her in such a state. She quietly thanked her sisters for her speedy recovery.

Dee Dee paused at one end of the room, and then approached her brother, glaring. "I said I'd be right back."

"It got cold. And dark," he said, pretending to shiver.

Ignoring him, she placed her hands on Blossom's shoulders. "I promise, I didn't plan this."

"It's okay." She leaned slightly to cue Dexter.

He made to speak, but Dee Dee stood in front of him once more, handing him a pair of keys on a small key ring.

"You wanted the keys to mom and dad's so you could feed the pets. Here. Now you can go."

"Dee Dee."

She placed her hands against her hips and narrowed her eyes. "Dexter."

"You should invite me to dinner."

She threw her hands up. "You can come over any time! Just not tonight."

Blossom stepped forward. "It's really, really okay, Dee Dee. There's no reason to stress about it."

"But—"

Dexter put an arm around his sister's shoulders, closing the distance between them and Blossom. She snapped her head back and forth between them, realizing they looked quite content in one another's presence. She screeched in excitement, causing them to flinch. It was at that moment Mandark emerged from the other side of the house.

"Seriously, how long does it take to answer... the..." His thoughts trailed off as he examined the scene in front of him. "Dee Dee, you aren't—"

"No, no! See, it happened on its own!" she said as she danced over to him, and then planted a kiss on his cheek. "Now who's the genius?"

He peered at her for a moment to express, what Blossom guessed, his gladness to see Dee Dee in good spirits. "If it happened on its own, that would mean it's still me."

"What?" Dee Dee exaggerated as she slouched over in feign disappointment, but shortly failed to conceal her laughter.

This, in turn, caused Mandark to smirk in mild amusement.

Next to Blossom, Dexter rolled his eyes and said quietly, "If this continues, I'm going to get cavities without the satisfaction of eating anything."

She noticed his hands were in his pockets, so she weaved her arm around his own. "Then, we better follow them."

"If we must."

As he said this, he gazed at her fondly, removing his hands from his pockets to grasp her hand closest to him, interlocking their fingers in a firm grip. As they walked side by side, she felt silly and excited to his preference of hand holding. It reminded her how much she'd missed physical contact with someone she easily connected with, among other things. But one last interruption halted their walk to the dining room. Dexter's phone rang. She found it endearing he hadn't let go of her hand while looking at his phone, hesitating to answer. He frowned.

"Work," he muttered. "If it's worth calling about now, it can't be good."

She encouraged him to answer it, despite her disappointment towards the situation. She reasoned it would be better for him to address a problem now than to worry while eating dinner. From her own experiences with her father, she knew his attention was gone the moment he saw the call was work related. Either she didn't do well enough to hide her disappointment, or he could naturally see through her attempt because in one swift movement, he lifted her hand and kissed the top of it.

"Two minutes," he promised as he headed to the front door to carry on his conversation outside.

She watched for a moment, determined not to let his use of affection to excuse him from unwanted behavior. But then she questioned whether or not it had already happened when she felt the lingering sensation of his kiss.

She didn't have long to fret over her feelings because Dee Dee returned to the room just as Dexter closed the door.

"Where's he going?"

"Something might've happened at work."

Dee Dee sighed. Then, with a sudden gust of enthusiasm, she said, "Oh well! We're not waiting for him."

Blossom followed Dee Dee into the next room, a dining room, unset, with a long table, and decorated much like the rest of the house. Her hostess explained that they rarely used that room to eat in, reserving it for parties. In the next room is where they would eat, she assured Blossom, in the breakfast nook attached to the kitchen. The dishes sat tightly packed on top of the small, round table set for four reminded her of her meals with her family. The quaintness of the setup almost seemed comical against the grandeur of the rest of the house. Dee Dee pulled out the empty chair next to the one that she decided would be her own, patting the back of it before sitting. The generous hosts offered to serve Blossom food prior to her reaching her seat. She was amused by their eagerness to share, keeping her too preoccupied to notice the empty seat next to her.

After they offered her everything on the table at least twice, including condiments, she noticed Dee Dee staring expectantly at her. Unable to read the question on her mind, Blossom pro-offered her postponed apology for not returning Dee Dee's call, explaining how she'd caught a cold.

Dee Dee waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about that. It's not fun catching a cold, and you needed your rest. But since my dorky brother isn't here," she said as she leaned closer, "you can tell me how it happened."

"Not that it's any of your business," Mandark said.

"Well, it's not like Dexter's going to spill the beans. He's really, very shy about these kinds of things," she explained to Blossom.

"There's really not much to tell," she said, glancing at the couple to see if her response satisfied both sides. She continued when she saw she had their attention. "It was kind of obvious how we felt—I mean, once we really started talking. That first day was rough."

"You talked before the case?" Dee Dee exclaimed.

"That day, actually, before we knew how we were involved. The exchange was... less than ideal. But after that, things got better. And we kept accidentally running into each other. Even now," she added with a laugh.

"Still, I'm surprised he acted so quickly," Mandark said. "Remember when it took him six months to decide what color he wanted to paint his living room in his new place?"

"Ugh," said Dee Dee, "he drove me crazy with that. How was I supposed to make time to help him if he didn't even know what he was doing? But he's always been like that, ever since we were kids. He'd get stuck thinking about things instead of doing things. Except when it came to science and his lab."

"His trial and error approach is pretty reckless. At least he's not using himself in experiments anymore."

"Really, the only thing that's changed is he's harder to pick on now."

"You all knew each other as kids, right?" Blossom said. "Mandy mentioned it briefly."

Mandark nodded. "I transferred into his class in the third grade, after moving into the neighborhood."

"So, then, when did you two meet? I mean, how did... it happen for you?"

Blossom paused when she noticed husband and wife exchanging coy glances at one another.

Dee Dee twirled one end of her twin-braids between her fingers as she spoke. "Well, go on, Mr. Smug Face, since you like to tell it so much."

Before turning her attention to Mandark, Blossom giggled quietly at his and Dee Dee's exchange, impressed with their ability to be so open about their affection. When he started his story, he used his hands to illustrate while his voice and expression pulled them in.

"The first moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."

"In the third grade?"

"Yes. But she was in the fifth grade, and I wasn't exactly the definition of cool, so needless to say, I went unnoticed."

"I wouldn't say 'unnoticed!'" Dee Dee interjected.

"You didn't want to date me until you graduated from college."

"Okay, well, if you and Dexter hadn't tested out of high school and most of college, maybe it would've been different. Besides, that's not even the best part of the story."

"They're all good parts. But my favorite is when she moved back home after college, and she asked me out. And then we dated for a month before deciding to get married, and years later, here we are."

"That's amazing," said Blossom. "It sounds unreal."

"Doesn't it?" said Dee Dee.

"So what changed your mind? What happened after college?"

"Well... it's a little hard to put into words. Growing up, I've always had the support of my family and friends close by. When I moved away for school by myself, I lost that comfort. And I found myself noticing all these things wonderful things I had in my life that I didn't fully appreciate because I was constantly around them. Which, of course, included the boy who regularly declared his undying love for me. For a while, I lived in a world where he didn't, and I didn't want that. So I made him marry me!"

Mandark laughed nervously, as if surprised by her sudden declaration.

"Not this story again."

Blossom glanced over her shoulder to see Dexter had joined them.

"We would've waited, but we probably would've starved to death before you got back," Dee Dee said, and then stuck her tongue out at him.

As Dexter started piling food onto his plate, he replied with a "yeah, yeah."

"Is everything okay?" Blossom asked.

He hesitated between scoops of rice as she asked him. After he plated enough food for himself, he set it down, focusing on taking his first bite of food. "Sort of."

His sister quickly asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means an immediate issue was resolved, leading to a series of new ones. In any case, they're issues I'll inevitably solve."

It was obvious to Blossom he was trying to avoid revealing the nature of that call. She tried to change the subject. "Did work bring you out here, originally?"

"No," he said, and then paused as he finished chewing. "No, our parents are out of town for the week, so Dee Dee and I split the house sitting responsibilities. They're watching the dog, and I've got to go feed the cat and fish and water the plants. And I realized I left my copy of their key at home just as I drove by." He flicked his wrist to look at his watch. He then shoveled one last fork-full of food into his mouth before standing with his plate in hand. "Sorry, Dee Dee, I've got to get going."

"But you just got here."

He set his plate in the sink after walking into the kitchen. When he returned to the nook, he pulled his car keys from his pocket, thanked them and wished them a goodnight. Blossom watched as he walked out of the room, until she felt a hand on her wrist.

Dee Dee smiled. "If you want to go with him, you should. It's okay!"

She nodded, quickly thanked them for the invitation and dinner. Jumping from her seat, she jogged to catch up with Dexter. She met him at the front door just as he opened it.

She called to him, and then said, "Did you want any help at your parents'?"

He considered it for a moment as she grabbed her blazer from the nearby coat-rack.

"I'll be alright. It should only take a few minutes to do everything."

They exited his sister's house together, and then walked silently side-by-side as they made their way down the path of the driveway to their cars. As she stopped in front of the driver's side door to look for her keys in her blazer pocket, she saw out of the corner of her eye, Dexter continued to stand close by. When she found her keys, he was compelled to speak.

"I miscalculated something about work, and I'm afraid it's put me in a difficult position."

"Difficult... but not impossible, right? It's something you'll inevitably solve."

He averted his eyes for a moment, amused that his own words would be so quickly used against him. "I did say that, didn't I?"

She tugged lightly at the cuff of his sleeve, demanding his full attention. "You don't have to decide on your own. I'll listen, if it helps."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right, well... I have two overseas trips planned, originally each were two weeks long with a couple of months in-between them. They're investment deals that I have to approve, so there's a lot of cumbersome song and dance with it. Normally, I would never spend two weeks on a project's approval in person, but since they're my first international deals on my own, I want to make sure everything goes right. That call I received tonight was a heads up from someone I know personally over there involved in the deal in India, telling me they finished ahead of schedule. They want to meet fast or they'll cut a deal with someone else."

"Which conflicts with your other potential?"

"Yeah. I was already spending the last two weeks of next month in China. Worst case scenario, they'll want to meet at the same time."

"And the best case?"

"The company in India doesn't get antsy and agrees to meet me like we scheduled. But that isn't the most likely scenario. I'm afraid it sounds like they want to start going over the deal next week."

"So you'll be gone all of next month."

"Nothing's been decided yet. I should get a call in a few hours from the project manager telling me officially what's going on, and we'll work it out then." He paused. "I'm sorry. I know what this looks like. This was totally unexpected. I could call it off, but that wouldn't look good considering we've been working on this for a year."

"Why would you call it off?" she asked, though she could already guess his answer. The question involuntarily escaped through her disbelief of his concern.

Contrast to her ability to see how it bothered him, her question left him taken aback. "It's... because... we've been together for less than a week, and I might already be leaving for a month. It's frustrating."

The futility expressed in his last statement confirmed Blossom's guess as to the source of his anxiety during dinner. Had this been a reoccurring conflict in his last relationship? How unfair, she thought, that if he left her for a month, he would carry the weight of an argument they never had. She understood, firsthand, both through her own experiences and experiences with her father, that being your own boss was difficult and sometimes required personal sacrifice. And she could give him the space to do so, knowing one day the situation could flip. She hoped he would extend the same faith in their relationship, but she doubted she could convince him with words alone. The best way to help him with this insecurity was to be there when he returned. But Blossom had never been one to hold back when speaking her mind. She wasn't going to give up without trying.

"Like you said, you didn't plan this. And Kuki's leaving for vacation in two weeks, so I'll be busier at work. Then there's Thanksgiving, so time'll just speed on by."

Something she said, or the tone she said it in, compelled him to pull her into a hug.

"I just don't want this to hurt my chances with you," he said as he buried his face in her neck.

She returned his hug, letting one hand rest in his dark red hair. "So don't let it."

He tilted his head upward and gave her a long, deep kiss. When he pulled back, he considered her for a moment and then said, "I should probably get used to the idea that you're going to be right all the time."

"Definitely."

A slow smile crept over their faces as some of the previous tension dissolved. They said their goodnights with Dexter promising to contact her in the morning with an update, and his expressing his intention of seeing her everyday until he had to leave. Blossom tried to remember if her feelings had conflicted this greatly at the beginning of her previous relationship: the desire to be generous and selfish, agitated and at ease, and content but always wanting more. The intensity at which they grew elicited something within her she'd never experienced before, and she was unable to find a name for it.

The following day, Dexter did inform Blossom that his trip to India was moved up, confirming his month long absence. They passed the week prior to his leave with lunch dates, cozy movie nights in their apartments, ending it with a hesitant goodbye at the airport. The first week rushed by, as she predicted, prepping for Kuki's vacation time off. But after Kuki left, and things slowed down for the patent lawyer, an uneasiness came over her. She did her best to quell her unwarranted thoughts of loneliness by telling herself she had plenty of friends and contacts in town, and she and Dexter spoke at least once a day, even if it was a short hello.

Focused on the distractions of everyday life, the next few weeks passed, giving way to Thanksgiving and the dinner Blossom shared with her family. They gathered in the house the Utonium sisters grew up in with their beloved father, where he currently resided. The sisters took turns sharing their latest occurrences in their lives. Bubbles poured herself into her new work as Townsville's largest theatre troupe's costume designer. They were in the middle of a production for the winter season, which explained Bubbles's newfound addiction to coffee. Blossom noted how her sister had a cup before and after dinner. Buttercup and her band made progress over the last few months gaining attention from fans and casual club-goers. Every time they were listed for a gig, the venue sold out of tickets or met maximum occupancy before they even took the stage. They even turned down a few record deals in favor of performing.

When it came to Blossom's turn to talk about herself, she realized most of what had happened was in regards to her relationship. And having it put on hold for a month as it'd just begun, she wasn't interested in discussing the details out loud. So she chose to make the conversation about work, as her sisters did. Business was good, really good, she tried her best to explain. Having nearly constant business for someone as unknown as herself was quite a feat, she thought. She was lucky to live in an area with so many people interested in protecting their works through the legal system.

Her sisters eyed her warily and her father gave her his typical, "that's nice dear" smile. And this was okay. Normally, she would concern herself with how much to share, straining to find a balance between what was private and what would satisfy the curiosity of her family. But the desire to claim ownership through understanding her relationship dissipated the whole notion of balancing anything. At least, not until a few more things were settled, like the mental exercises of contradictions her mind now often performed.

The weekend passed idly as she and her sisters stayed at their father's house, treating it as a small vacation. By the time Sunday rolled in, the Utonium family let their work for the week slowly trickle in. Buttercup sat on the couch in the living room, strumming her bass guitar, varying between playing entire songs, pieces of repeated music, and writing on a nearby notepad. Bubbles joined her shortly, setting up a small workstation at the other end of the couch: a small, fold out table with a sewing machine. She sprawled fabrics freely on and around her as she moved back and forth between sitting on the couch and kneeling on the floor. When Blossom entered the room with assorted Manila folders full of papers and an array of colored highlighters under her arm and in her hand, respectively, the sisters laughed at one another. Their like mindedness still amused them, even as adults.

"Do you think he's going to call soon?" asked Bubbles after a short lull in their conversation.

Blossom looked down at her phone, which she left freely on the coffee table, next to her papers. It was a habit she formed at work, and recently it spilled into her life outside the office. "No, he already did this morning. It's around two in the morning over there now."

Without looking up from writing, Buttercup said, "He's coming back soon, isn't he?"

"Yes," she replied, leaning closer to the table in attempts to hide a goofy grin that crept over her. In five days, she would see him again.

When she looked up to pick her highlighter back up, she glanced at her sisters. To her surprise, they were watching her. She laughed nervously as they expressed how unusual her behavior was, and how they wanted to get to know the guy that made her act this way. A sudden beep from her phone cut their banter short.

She recognized the sound as a text message, and thought it odd to receive one since she'd spoken to or was in the direct vicinity of everyone she normally contacted through her phone. Reading the message, she felt her fingers go cold and stiffen as her mood sank, sickened by the intrusion into her life by the sender. She continued to stare at the message as she fought to figure out the degree of how much this bothered her. Bubbles recognized her sister's expression, addressing it delicately.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's Brick. He wants to pick up the last of his stuff tomorrow."

Buttercup set her bass on the floor and leaned it against the couch, silently announcing her full attention. "Seriously? Months later? He's lucky you didn't throw it out after the move."

"I thought about it," Blossom said. As her sisters spoke, she felt relief from her own thoughts. "But it wouldn't have been right."

Bubbles sat next to Blossom. "Do you want us to handle it? We could give him the, what, two boxes? It's no big deal."

"Yeah, and I've got a message to deliver to him personally," Buttercup said as she shook her fist.

"I won't let her hit him," Bubbles said as she placed her hand on Blossom's shoulder. "But imagining it _is_ pretty satisfying."

Blossom laughed. "It's fine, I can do it." She paused as she considered her words. "We both decided to end it, so I think he really means to only get his stuff. Maybe it means he's moving on, too. It's a relief honestly. I wanted it to be clear there was no going back to before, so this is good. This is the end of it."

Bubbles sniffled as she wiped a tear from her cheek. "It's not fair to you, Blossom. You did so much for him, so why did you have to get hurt?"

"We both did," Blossom said as she pulled her sister into a hug. "But I learned a lot, and I have two wonderful sisters that helped me, so I can't complain."

Bubbles alternated between short laughter and sniffling.

"Hey," said Buttercup, "isn't this backwards? Shouldn't Blossom be the one crying?"

"Why? I don't have anything to cry about."

Blossom knew her response was about to elicit a snide remark from Buttercup either about her over-confidence or tendency to baby Bubbles, but they turned their attention to Bubbles when she apologized.

Buttercup sighed. "I didn't mean you couldn't," she said to Bubbles.

"Hey, I know!" Blossom said. "Let's clean up a little and then pull the Professor out of the lab to see what he wants to do about dinner."

She decided to move her attention back to her family, leaving the message unanswered. She could respond in her own time, she reminded herself, because her priorities laid in present. And that was her greatest comfort.


End file.
